re 


U-GSB  LIBRAE 


. 


DISCOURSES 


CHRISTIAN   BODY  AND  FORM. 


BY   C.   A.   BARTOL, 


JUNIOR    MINISTER    OF    THE    WEST     CHURCH    IN    BOSTON. 


BOSTON: 
CROSBY,     NICHOLS,    AND    COMPANY. 

NEW  YORK  :  C.  S.  FRANCIS  &  COMPANY. 
1853. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 

CROSBY,  NICHOLS,  &  CO. 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


BOSTON: 

PRIXTED    BY    JOHH    WIWON    AND    SON, 
No.  22,  SCHOOL  STREET. 


TO 

GEORGE  C.  SHATTUCK, 

AX 

ACKNOWLEDGMENT    IN    WORD 

OF 

GOOD  AND  TIMELY  DEEDS. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

INTRODUCTION 1 

DISCOURSE  I. 
ORDINANCES 21 

II. 
THE  BODY  OF  CHRIST 34 

in. 

THE  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST 48 

IV. 
THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE 63 

V. 

THE  LORD'S  TABLE 76 

VI. 

EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER 87 

vn. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  REVOLUTION 110 

vni. 

CHRIST  OUR  PASSOVER 121 

IX. 
THE  VOICE  OF  CHRIST'S  BLOOD 133 

X. 

PRESENCE  OF  CHRIST 144 

XI. 

THE  THOUGHT  OF  CHRIST   .        .  '.        .        .        .      156 

XII. 

LOVE  FOR  CHRIST  .      168 


VI  CONTENTS. 

T*gt. 
XIII. 

COMMUNION  WITH  CHRIST    .        4        .        .        .        .        .183 

XIV. 
CHRISTIAN  FORMULA  OF  BAPTISM        .....      201 

XV. 

THE  RELIGION  OF  FORM,  OF  DOCTRINE,  AND  OF  SPIRIT      .      220 

XVI. 

COMMON  GROUND  OF'  MOSAIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  WORSHIP      .      229 

XVIL 
CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY    .....      238 

xvm. 

THB    FORM    OF    THE    SUPERNATURAL    IN    THE    CHRISTIAN 

MIRACLES      ........        .      251 

XIX. 

CHRISTIAN  POSTURE  OF  THE  PROBLEM  OF  EVIL  IN  LIFE    .      264 

XX. 

CHRISTIAN  REPRESENTATION  OF  DEATH  AS  A  SLEEP   .        .      274 

XXI. 

WHAT  THE  CHRISTIAN  HAS  TO  LIVE  AND  TO  DIE  FOR        .      283 

XXII. 
THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEA  OF  HEAVEN  AND  HELL      .  '.      294 


THE  CHRISTIAN  DEFINITION  OF  IMMORTALITY      .        .        .315 

XXIV. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  CONDITION  OF  SATISFACTION       .        .        .      327 

XXV. 

CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN      .        .      337 

XXVI. 

THB  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION  .....      349 

CONCLUSION          ......  361 


DISCOURSES. 


DISCOURSES. 


INTRODUCTION. 

AN  intention  to  explain  what  may  appear  singular 
in  my  title,  to  show  the  sources  of  my  preparation, 
and,  upon  a  hearing  already  beyond  expectation  or 
claim,  to  justify  this  request  of  the  public  ear,  may 
authorize  some  preliminary  remarks.  Some  time 
ago,  I  put  forth  a  volume  on  the  Christian  Spirit 
and  Life.  Ever  since,  one  haunting  thought,  more 
close  than  any  other,  has  continually  returned  to 
me, —  asked  for  expression,  and  called  itself  by  this 
name  of  the  Christian  Body  and  Form.  It  has 
offered  itself  as  a  subject  necessary  to  balance  and 
complete  the  former  theme ;  and,  moreover,  as  by 
many  persons  among  us,  in  their  tendency  to  view 
things  under  the  light  of  abstractions,  now  much 
neglected:  for  the  running  after  ghosts,  that  so 
marks  the  present  period,  would  seem  a  fit  cari 
cature  of  the  disposition  to  hunt  for  truth,  less 
among  the  substantial  facts  of  providence  and 
experience,  than  in  the  thin  air  of  metaphysical 
1 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

reasoning.  Not  a  few  have  come  to  despise,  or  see 
no  utility  in,  and  thus  been  inclined  to  shake  off, 
or  let  go  by  default,  to  flout  with  forgetful  irregu 
larity,  or  slight  with  long  postponement,  the  most 
venerable  customs  and  traditions  of  our  religion; 
and  some  would  even  melt  all  its  old  peculiarities 
of  form  and  doctrine,  as  but  rusty  cast-off  fragments, 
in  the  foundry  of  their  own  minds,  for  restatement 
after  the  pattern  of  some  prevailing  philosophy. 
From  the  hardness  and  dryness  of  a  literal  theo 
logy,  or  from  the  chafing  of  ecclesiastical  oppression, 
a  part  of  the  community  has  been  thrown  off  into 
the  other  extreme  of  free-thinking,  endless  specu 
lation,  and  well-nigh  savage  independence  and 
solitary  vagrancy  of  religious  manners. 

Under  such  circumstances,  one  may  be  excused 
for  thinking  it  time  to  come  back  to  a  sober  con 
sideration  of  those  actual  and  permanent  traits  of 
Christianity  which  make  it  something  outside  of 
our  conceit,  unalterable  by  our  will  as  it  is  unim 
provable  by  our  wisdom,  and  with  which  we  have 
grave  practical  dealing,  either  to  proceed  according 
to  its  landmarks  by  the  hand  of  God  planted,  or  to 
fall  against  this  stone  and  be  broken.  Believing 
not  only  that  Christianity  is  a  religion  for  the  heart, 
but  that  the  intellect,  which  expends  itself  on  ideas 
purely  of  its  own  finding  or  generation,  would  be 
better  employed  upon  the  verities  of  teaching  and 
observance  in  the  gospel,  or  would  obtain  a  surer 
guide  to  all  valuable  conclusions  in  the  views  of 


INTRODUCTION.  d 

life  and  duty  it  opens,  I  would  bring  a  humble 
contribution  of  encouragement  to  such  a  course, 
and  some  dissuasive  from  its  opposite. 

It  is  obvious  at  starting,  that  Christianity  may 
be  regarded  in  a  twofold  way,  as  an  end  and  a 
means.  The  Christian  spirit  and  life  is  a  certain 
absolute  quality  and  finished  result.  But  exactly 
in  proportion  to  its  preciousness  and  importance 
are  we  urged  by  the  question,  through  what  instru 
mentality  this  quality  shall  be  instilled,  this  result 
attained.  On  the  one  side  is  the  heavenly  truth 
and  immortal  excellence ;  on  the  other  are  we,  in 
these  earthen  vessels,  in  the  midst  of  the  material 
world.  How  across  the  chasm  the  divine  element 
shall  be  drawn  or  poured  into  us,  or  how,  in  our 
sickly  state,  the  healing  power  shall  be  introduced 
into  our  frame  and  blood;  what  are  the  channels 
to  be  cut,  or  what  the  hindrances  to  be  removed ; 
what  subtle  obstacles  may  baffle  and  make  vain 
the  whole  action  of  our  religion,  as  an  impercep 
tible  wedge  keeps  the  huge  ship  from  launching 
into  the  seas ;  —  in  short,  not  so  much  the  object  as 
the  method  of  the  gospel,  is  certainly  a  serious  point 
of  inquiry. 

Nor  can  the  importance  of  this  inquiry  be  brought 
into  doubt,  unless  by  the  idea,  entertained  by 
some,  of  the  natural  and  sufficient  inspiration  of 
the  human  mind.  This  idea  would  render  any 
special  disclosure  from  Heaven  needless;  would 
offer  to  mankind  a  vacation  from  all  discipline,  and, 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

indeed,  give  to  exhortations  of  every  sort  a  supere 
rogatory  character.  Any  preaching  of,  or  connected 
with,  such  an  idea,  may  remind  one  of  the  familiar 
nursery-rhyme  that  commands  "  perfect  men,"  that 
they  " ever  keep  the  precepts  ten;"  an  injunction 
which  such  persons  would  not  seem  to  require. 
Even  of  these  childish  lines,  what  is  all  unqualified 
magnifying  of  the  soul's  native  insight  and  intrinsic 
purity  but  a  rhetorical  swell?  If  only  the  moral 
glories  of  piety  and  humanity  in  common  life  an 
swered  to  the  amplification,  and  the  deep  of  a 
transcendent  virtue  called  back  to  that  of  a  subli 
mated  philosophy,  it  would  be  well.  But  the 
theory  of  an  adequate,  universal  inspiration  cannot, 
for  a  moment,  abide  the  facts  of  human  history. 
That  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  the  world,  like  other  lights,  burns  in  one  or  an 
other  more  or  less  largely  and  clearly,  with  multi 
tudes  waxes  pale  and  dim,  and  in  not  a  few  almost 
wholly  goes  out.  The  very  question  is  how  to 
relume,  and  feed,  and  spread  the  celestial  lustre. 
The  keeping  of  the  Ten  Commandments  is  no  easy 
thing,  and  has  rarely  had  a  place,  correspondent  to 
their  old  engraving,  in  any  age  of  the  world  ;  to  say 
nothing  of  those  loftier  tasks  in  deportment  and 
spirit  which  Jesus  Christ  has  assigned.  Slowly  to 
raise  men  up  into  obedience  to  law  is  the  aim  of 
every  sort  of  training,  civil  or  theological;  and  a 
consummation  to  which  all  institutions,  directions, 
prayers,  and  appliances  are  pre-requisite.  Chris- 


INTRODUCTION.  O 

tianity  is  but  another  mode  and  new  path  to  its 
larger  and  perfect  accomplishment. 

In  an  undertaking  to  determine  the  particular 
features  of  our  religion,  there  is,  no  doubt,  danger 
of  falling  into  uncharitable  restrictions.  There  is 
a  complexion  of  liberality,  there  is  a  gesture  of 
magnanimity,  in  wholly  waiving  such  an  attempt, 
and  leaving  every  one  unmolested  to  decide  or 
avoid  any  point  of  doctrine  or  observance  at  his 
pleasure.  It  looks  generous  to  interfere  with  no 
body,  and  odious  to  reduce  the  latitude  of  any 
man's  freedom.  But,  after  so  stout  a  maintenance 
as  we  have  had  of  human  liberty,  and  so  successful 
a  protest  in  these  latitudes  against  all  tyranny  over 
the  mind,  is  it  not,  at  last,  seasonable  to  reflect  that 
bigotry,  though  a  great  sin,  is  not  the  only  sin 
against  men,  nor  dogmatism  the  solitary  injury  to 
the  temper  of  our  religion  ?  What  is  valuable  may 
be  lost  by  evaporation  as  well  as  by  extinction; 
and  it  does  not  so  much  matter  whether  a  narrow 
creed  choke  the  life  of  Christianity,  or  a  boundless 
generalization  dissipate  it.  If  a  hot,  sectarian  zeal 
is  unjust  to  the  honest  dissenter,  so  is  a  blank  indif 
ference  of  faith  and  custom  disrespectful  to  the 
Word  of  God  and  unloving  to  human  souls.  It  is 
better  to  be  burnt  by  the  believer's  passionate  ardor 
for  his  own  opinions,  than  chilled  by  icy  disregard 
of  any  tenets.  It  is  better  to  take  the  kingdom  of 
God  by  violence,  than  not  even  to  resolve  on  peace 
ful  entrance.  It  is  better  to  lay  hold  on  some  part  or 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

corner  of  the  gospel,  than  to  neglect  altogether  em 
bracing  it.  That  was  high  praise  of  a  certain  class 
of  disciples,  that  theirs  was  a  religion  in  earnest; 
and  the  bitter  complaint  of  illiberality  may  indicate 
a  sensitiveness  suggestive  of  suspicion,  whether  we 
ourselves  stand  on  a  rock.  We  can  bear  a  little 
rough  search  of  the  contents  in  the  vessel  of  our 
belief,  if  we  have  a  sincere  and  positive  one.  The 
threatening  or  fearful  charge  that  over  this  sea  of 
time  we  sail  under  wrong  colors,  or  in  no  heavenly 
direction,  implies  a  finer  tribute  of  regard  than 
does  an  utter  carelessness  about  our  standard,  and 
whether  we  sail  for  the  heavenly  country  at  all. 
It  is  more  promising  for  the  maintenance  of  Chris 
tianity  that  it  should  be  partially  understood  and 
rigidly  urged,  than  that  it  should  be  the  object  of  a 
cool  civility,  —  very  large  and  respectful,  bowing  to 
its  proofs,  but  not  on  fire  with  its  affections,  or  ful 
filling  its  rules.  There  may  be  an  excessive  denoun 
cing  of  denominations  among  Christians.  He  who 
is  a  member  of  no  one  of  them  may  yet  see  all  of 
them  as  rising  from  those  successive  attempts  to 
seize  and  define  the  Christian  system,  whose  strug 
gle  together  widens  and  detpens  the  total  compre 
hension  of  it  among  men,  and  without  which, 
though  singly  failing  and  imperfect,  the  religion 
itself  might  have  been  left  aside  from  all  concern, 
and,  for  the  race,  long  ago  in  its  grave. 

Furthermore,  the  holding  of  Christianity  in  some 
substantial  and  tangible  shape  may  rightly  order 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

its  investigation,  and,  while  allowing  to  general 
criticism  its  fair  scope,  may  yet  confine  it  within 
just  and  wholesome  limits,  and,  from  for  ever  re 
peating  the  same  for  ever  repelled  assaults,  put  it 
to  some  reasonable  rest.  For  a  survey  of  the  actual 
stature  and  bearing  of  our  religion  evinces  its  truth, 
as  well  as  does  the  institution  of  perpetual  inquiry 
into  its  historic  sources,  and  following  down  the 
whole  line  of  its  descent.  Some  deference  is  cer 
tainly  due,  not  alone  to  documentary  facts,  but  to 
vital  power.  The  volcano,  no  less  than  an  obscure 
groping  among  the  strata  of  the  earth,  or  conflict 
of  geologic  doctrines,  is  demonstration  of  the  cen 
tral  fire.  What  Christianity  is  and  does,  furnishes 
its  evidence;  not  only  the  circumstances  of  its 
origin  or  conditions  of  its  progress,  from  the  first 
century  to  the  third,  or  from  the  third  to  the  nine 
teenth.  Preposterous  is  the  ground  taken  by  some, 
—  a  ground  on  which  all  human  life  would  stand 
still,  —  that  the  gospel  is  to  be  allowed  no  accept 
ance  till  we  can  settle  every  difficulty  concerning  it, 
and  resolve  all  doubts.  "  How,"  says  our  sceptic, 
"  did  it  get  over  that  early  chasm  of  unrecorded  or 
imperfectly  accessible  and  strangely  storied  years?" 
Verily,  my  friend,  it  did  get  over,  and  is  here  among 
us  to  teach  and  to  bless,  however  inexplicable  or  mi 
raculous,  as  in  other  cases  of  preservation,  may  have 
been  the  escape.  To  deny  it  recognition  till  you 
can  fix  every  point  of  its  genealogy  is  like  refusing 
to  listen  to  a  man's  wisdom,  or  admire  his  good- 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

ness,  till  you  have  followed  down,  on  the  herald's 
list  or  the  family  chart,  every  point  of  his  pedigree. 
Grant  that  there  are  hard  passages  in  our  faith,  lists 
of  names  that  cannot  be  reconciled,  knotty  queries ; 
possibly  places  in  revelation,  as  there  are  chasms 
and  gulfs  in  nature,  we  may  try  in  vain  to  fathom, 
or  to  link  together,  or  bridge  over.  But,  mean 
time,  shall  we  not  inspect  the  great  qualities  of  the 
religion,  examine  its  intrinsic  beauty,  observe  its 
internal  strength,  taste  and  cultivate  its  precious 
fruits  ?  Shall  we  not  walk  about  Zion,  consider 
her  bulwarks,  mark  her  palaces,  behold  her  towers, 
and,  having  compared  her  glory  with  all  beside  of 
ancient  rearing  or  modem  growth,  tell  it  to  the 
generation  following  ? 

Once  more,  for  our  own  moral  health  too,  we 
need  not  only  that  intellectual  stir,  which  is  the 
ever-echoing  boast  of  our  times,  but  some  repose 
also  of  spirit.  It  touches  to  the  quick  of  our  be 
ing  to  have  persuasions  in  which  our  soul  can  be 
rooted,  and  from  which  our  character  can  spring, 
instead  of  being  borne  in  a  barren  whirl  through 
a  notional  universe.  Neither  is  it  past  hope,  that 
we  may  have,  each  one,  a  clear  form  and  distinct 
body  of  religion,  large  enough  to  escape  all  harm 
to  others'  liberty,  while  stopping  short  of  profitless 
disputation.  There  is  at  least  no  mental  sacrifice  in 
the  trial.  The  nobler  qualities  of  our  nature  do  not 
expand  and  advance  in  the  pure  void  of  our  own 
conceptions,  but  in  that  at  once  resisting  and  uplift- 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

ing  medium  of  an  actual  faith  and  worship,  which 
more  than  atones  for  its  restraints  by  its  emancipa 
tions.  An  overweening  assurance  of  being  right, 
joined  with  unbrotherly  feeling  or  selfish  passion,  be 
gets,  indeed,  the  vice  of  intolerance ;  but  intolerance 
itself,  turned  against  those  who  have  forsaken  the 
work  of  a  party-zealotry,  denies  its  own  nature,  and 
becomes  with  them  not  seldom  the  ugly  mother  of 
a  beautiful  child  of  charity.  Those,  driven  off  from 
some  little  pale  and  enclosure  of  communion,  are,  by 
a  holy  revenge,  made  kind-hearted  and  hospitable  to 
all.  Like  the  issue  from  certain  frozen  cordials  of 
increased  sweetness  and  strength,  or  the  flow  of  the 
must  of  new  wine  from  the  crushing  of  the  grapes, 
is  the  free  run  out  of  a  frosty  creed,  or,  from  beneath 
the  pressure  of  persecution,  of  their  genuine  friend 
ship.  The  heart  thanks  them  for  their  noble  utter 
ances  and  their  courageous  corresponding  actual 
procedure.  Nay,  with  no  sectarian  joy  or  partisan 
ambition,  the  heart  thanks  God  for  raising  them 
in  the  little  ranks  of  some  special  order  to  be  the 
honors  of  our  common  nature,  and  leaders  of  the 
host  of  humanity. 

Whatever  may  be  the  evils  in  an  imposition  of 
exact  religious  methods,  to  understand  the  worth 
also  of  such  methods,  one  need  only  be  occasionally 
in  a  region  where  no  Christian  institutions  are 
observed;  but  the  undiscriminated  days  glide  on  in 
continual  attention  to  worldly  cares,  while  the 
general  tone  of  thought  is  unbraced  with  listless- 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

ness,  or  let  down  into  imbecility ;  and,  with  no  feet 
moving  or  standing  in  even  beauty  together  to  own 
what  is  above,  the  community  falls  laterally  apart, 
each  member  to  walk  in  his  own  separate,  un- 
cheered  path  through  the  world.  It  is  one  thing  to 
be  slaves  to  routine,  and  another  to  be  animated 
by  a  decent  order  of  divine  service ;  one  thing  to 
be  idolatrous  of  the  letter,  and  another  to  be  truly 
evangelical;  one  thing  to  be  rationalistic  schemers, 
and  another  to  be  reasonable  men ;  and  Christian- 
tianity's  real  proposition  to  us  is  of  the  happy  side 
of  every  such  alternative. 

What  may  be  called  the  formal  part  of  our  reli 
gion  is,  moreover,  but  a  vehicle  of  the  moral  and 
the  spiritual.  No  ritual,  of  course,  is  to  be  sustained 
for  its  own  sake,  but  only  in  behalf  of  that  spiritual 
elevation,  which  is  the  glory  of  our  nature,  and  only 
enchantment  of  the  world ;  and  beside  which  all 
that  time  and  space  contain  is  of  no  account,  but 
as  its  means.  As  an  ethereal  essence  is  guarded 
for  use  in  a  phial ;  as  the  elemental  forces  of  nature, 
from  their  diffusion  through  the  universe,  are  made 
at  special  points  to  strike  and  flash  on  our  senses; 
so  is  it  with  the  divine  power  through  the  agency 
of  the  Christian  services.  A  lifeless  administration 
or  deathly  inattention  may  despoil  them  of  their 
virtue ;  but  their  fit  and  natural  effect  is  to  initiate 
the  mind  into  a  stronger  sense  of  eternal  realities 
than  could  arise  from  any  ethical  teaching.  Un 
doubtedly,  such  services  as  at  present  ordered  will 


INTRODUCTION".  11 

at  length  fall  away  from  the  soul  in  the  vast  spiri 
tual  progress  of  future  stages  of  his  being.  Never 
theless  are  they  suited  to  train  successive  human 
generations,  and  especially  to  lead  on  children  to 
their  first  perceptions  of  invisible  reality,  though 
they  would  not  suffice  to  conduct  one  advancing 
intellect,  supposed  to  remain  on  earth  through  all 
the  duration  of  the  church. 

It  is  to  be  counted,  too,  as  a  great  benefit  of  the 
rites  of  religion,  that  they  operate  to  keep  the  spiri 
tual  in  its  proper  precedence  to  the  merely  moral, 
and  thus  to  insure  the  best  morality  on  the  basis  of 
the  noblest  sentiments.  The  soul  can  no  more 
than  the  songster,  flying  yonder  in  the  summer-day, 
weave  its  nest  out  of  its  own  bosom,  but  only 
from  the  material  God  provides.  We  must,  indeed, 
know  men  by  their  fruits.  But,  in  order  to  good 
fruit,  the  first  thing  is  a  good  tree.  The  gardener's 
anxiety  centres  primarily  on  the  seed  he  shah1  plant, 
or  the  slip  he  shall  set  out  in  his  nursery.  So  what 
is  most  necessary  to  our  virtue  is  that  germ  of  a 
right  disposition  towards  God,  which  comes  from, 
the  exercises  of  his  worship. 

Again,  let  me  say,  this  is  the  only  way  of  joy  to 
a  human  soul.  The  soul  has  no  lasting  pleasure 
in  any  thing,  by  its  own  endeavor  or  works  of 
righteousness,  it  can  be  or  do.  We  talk  of  self- 
satisfaction,  but  there  is  no  such  thing.  No  sinner 
surely  was  ever  satisfied  with  himself  in  his  poor 
pasture  of  husks :  never,  certainly,  was  any  saint ! 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

The  more  he  accumulates  merits,  the  less  his  com 
fort  in  contemplating  them  as  his  own.  To  his 
vision,  purged  through  the  very  growth  of  his  spiri 
tuality  and  progress  into  the  light  of  higher  con 
ceptions  and  ideals  of  goodness,  they  lose  their 
gaudy  color ;  they  will  not  wear  the  robe  of  self- 
complacency;  in  all  their  amount  and  grandeur, 
they  look  but  like  splendid  failures  and  masses  of 
imperfection  in  his  own  eyes.  He  adopts  the 
poet's  cry, 

"  Forgive  my  sins;  forgive  my  virtues  too,  — 
Those  smaller  sins,  half  converts  to  the  right." 

Wonderfully,  by  this  spiritual  attitude  of  worship, 
made  wonted  and  secure  by  the  forms  and  acts  of 
worship,  God  holds  his  children,  for  sustenance,  to 
his  own  bosom ;  provides  for  their  humility  even  in 
their  improvement ;  whets  the  conscience  to  aggra 
vated  demands  with  every  upward  step ;  makes  it 
more  tender  to  remaining  evil  with  increasing 
worth ;  hides  remorse  in  our  excellence  as  much  as 
in  our  depravity ;  goads  it  with  stings  of  memory 
to  the  leap  of  self-abandonment  into  the  peace  of 
his  arms ;  and  thus  causes  our  self-depreciation  to 
become  not  passive  despair,  like  the  wavering  mo 
tion  with  which  the  exhausted  bird  circles  heavily  to 
the  ground,  but  only  like  its  lowly  stoop,  skimming 
down  for  a  new  impulse,  with  rested  wings,  to  soar 
up  into  heaven. 

Such  is  the  testimony  of  all  the  converted  or 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

sanctified ;  a  testimony  rising  not  only  in  the  still 
seclusion  of  the  temple,  but  coming  through  the 
vexed  atmosphere  of  politics,  as  on  the  last  breath 
of  the  statesman  who  has  weathered  bravely  the 
gales  of  half  a  century,  towering  above  his  an 
tagonists,  yet,  as  he  lingers  through  slow  disease 
towards  death,  renounces  all  his  fame  to  pray  for 
some  gentle  breeze  from  heaven  to  waft  him  home. 
Verily,  on  "  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air,"  a 
good  message  for  our  guidance !  But,  if  we  go 
down  into  the  depths  of  our  own  souls,  there,  after 
all  our  toil  and  gain,  we  feel  vacant  and  famished, 
till,  from  our  own  deeds,  we  resort  to  God's  wor 
ship,  and  hear  him  saying,  "  Give  me  thy  heart." 
Giving  our  heart  to  him,  he  retains  it  in  no  misty 
absorption  and  loss  of  our  consciousness,  but  gives 
it  back  to  us,  now  no  longer  destitute  and  like  a 
deserted  chamber,  but  worth  our  having,  and  worth 
our  giving  to  one  another. 

Accordingly,  I  trust,  it  will  appear,  in  the  opening 
of  my  particular  themes,  more  fully  than  I  can  here 
explain,  that  the  Christian  body  and  form,  being 
equidistant  from  any  plan  of  fanaticism  on  the  one 
hand,  and  any  coldness  of  inhuman  unconcern  for 
our  fellow-creatures  on  the  other,  is  adapted  to  fos 
ter  all  the  good  and  live  affections  that  lie  between ; 
exciting  fraternal  feeling  towards  others,  and  exor 
cising,  by  the  lowliness  of  devotion  and  love,  all 
hate  and  scorn ;  for  reckoning  not  on  ourselves,  but 
on  God  alone,  will  make  us  kind  and  tolerant  to 
2 


14  INTRODUCTION 

men.  There  is  an  old  fable,  of  one  who  perished 
admiring  his  own  beauty  reflected  to  him  from  a 
fountain.  Nor  could  there  be  a  surer  way  of  moral 
destruction,  than  making  favorable  contrasts  of  our 
rectitude  with  that  of  others.  The  Holy  Ghost, 
chief  thing  for  which  we  pray,  does  no  such  busi 
ness  for  us  as  this.  It  is  but  the  miserable  doing 
of  our  atheistic  self-love,  one  of  those  works  of  our 
own  by  which  we  cannot  be  saved.  That  esteem 
of  ourselves  which  is,  conversely,  severity  of  judg 
ment  to  our  fellow-creatures,  is  no  gift  from  on 
high,  but  the  inspiration  of  our  own  pride  and 
vanity ;  and,  while  launching  bolts  of  denunciation 
against  another,  it  more  fatally  smites  us  with  the 
recoil  of  the  weapon.  The  fanatic  is  "  hoist  with 
his  own  petard."  Then,  when,  beyond  lonely  ego 
tism,  a  proud  company  of  people  banded  together, 
however  numerous,  but  one  shred  torn  from  the 
whole  body  and  membership  of  Christ,  come  to 
think  themselves  alone  heirs  of  salvation,  and  ven 
ture  to  doom  all  beside  to  ruin,  no  subtle  change 
is  wrought  in  the  quality  of  the  wrong  and  irreli 
gious  feeling  they  manifest,  by  reason  of  the  num 
ber  of  those  through  whom  it  is  displayed.  The 
guilt  of  a  presumptuous  conceit  is  not  diminished, 
but  only  accumulated,  by  being  so  widely  shared. 
Contrary  to  that  genius  of  devotion  I  invoke,  it  is 
but  a  wretched  multiplication  of  self-worship  and  a 
strange  permutation  of  self-love.  It  is  still  the  same 
vanity  swelling  into  arithmetical  progression,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

trying  to  lose  its  own  shame  in  hiding  behind  its 
neighbor.  It  is  no  sword  of  the  Lord  against  his 
foes,  but  a  galvanic  battery  of  unchristian  arrogance 
against  his  children.  It  inaugurates  that  peculiar 
style  of  speech  in  which  so  frequently  recur  the 
words  "  we  "  and  "  us,"  as  indicating  the  authority 
to  which  all  should  be  referred.  We  read  that  a 
disciple  of  Christ  once  said  to  him,  "  Master,  we 
saw  one  casting  out  devils  in  thy  name,  and  he  fol- 
loweth  not  us ;  and  we  forbade  him  because  he 
followeth  not  us."  Truly,  the  Master's  immediate 
rebuke  might  still  well  fall  on  many  ears  !  Could 
we,  in  this  connection,  get  rid  of  those  little  words, 
the  church  would  be  disabused  of  most  of  its  sor 
rows  and  sins.  For,  surely,  the  object  is  not  for 
others  to  approach  or  follow  us,  but  for  us  all  to 
approach  and  follow  after  Christ.  This  the  whole 
form  and  temper  of  his  gospel,  inclining  us  to  charity 
as  well  as  purity,  would  lead  us  to  do. 

With  no  vocation  or  disposition  to  say  a  hard 
word  of  any  body  of  professors,  so  much  cannot, 
without  offence  both  to  truth  and  charity,  which  is 
not  blind  to  the  truth,  be  forborne.  Blameless,  in 
deed,  and  praiseworthy  should  we  hold  the  earnest 
ness  of  each  believer,  or  association  of  believers,  in 
the  advocacy  of  cherished  convictions,  and  in  oppo 
sition  to  all  that  may  be  accounted  dangerous  error. 
They  would  not  surrender  their  loyalty  by  respect 
to  all  difference  of  opinion  sustained  with  equal 
earnestness.  For  it  is  not  a  sameness  of  creed, 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

which,  under  the  broad  Christian  faith  and  fellow 
ship,  preserves  the  unity  any  more  than  the  effi 
ciency  of  our  religion ;  but  rather  in  free  gradations 
is  the  very  constitution  of  harmony. 

But  our  subject,  that  has  borne  us  into  such  re 
flections,  brings  us  back  from  all  calculation  of 
wide  effects,  and  insists  mainly  on  a  personal  appli 
cation.  We  cannot  wait  for  our  deliverance  and 
devotion  till  all  men  are  justly  disposed,  and  mov 
ing  at  the  Leader's  word.  To  our  own  disposition 
and  motion  must  we  attend.  On  some  great  day 
of  jubilee  and  procession  through  the  streets,  we 
may  have  looked  on,  and  marvelled  to  see  how  long 
it  took  to  get  the  world  into  order ;  how  long  for 
every  company  and  division  to  arrive  at  its  rank, 
and  take  up  its  proper  march.  Never  the  less  for 
the  general  confusion  and  slowness,  the  straggling 
departure,  or  disorderly  crash,  did  it  become  each 
one,  instead  of  spending  his  time  in  star-gazing 
astonishment,  to  hasten  to  his  own  place,  and  go 
on  doing  his  own  part.  Be  it  not,  however,  forgot 
ten  that  the  part  of  each  one  is  for  the  common 
advance ;  and  that,  while  religion  should  be  a  per 
suasion  in  every  man's  mind  and  a  production  in 
every  man's  life,  its  genius  is  essentially  social, 
binding  individual  needs  and  efforts  in  concert  for 
the  common  salvation ;  contemplating  never  a  pri 
vate  glory,  but  the  universal  necessity,  and  making 
its  perfection  not  that  of  an  isolated  soul,  but  of  a 
general  humanity.  It  urges  us  not  to  retire  from 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

our  kind,  and  pick  our  own  separate  way,  but,  dis 
allowing  all  our  cold  and  haughty  self-reliance, 
prompts  us  to  move  with  united  tread ;  feeling  and 
giving  on  all  sides  the  fraternal  responsive  pulse  of 
combined  strength,  as  we  seek  the  same  victory,  and 
travel  to  the  same  home.  It  directs  us  to  save  our 
selves  from  ruin,  not  alone  or  chiefly  by  moral  care 
fulness  and  wary  attention  to  our  own  fate,  as  one 
strikes  out  by  himself  from  the  burning  or  sinking 
ship,  leaving  the  mass  of  wild  and  struggling  misery 
behind,  —  but  puts  our  own  deliverance  into  the 
love  of  God  and  all  his  creatures.  Uniting  con 
science  with  sympathy,  it  wears  a  double  crown, 
in  which  the  brightness  of  purity  glows  with  the 
warmth  of  every  good  affection ;  and  it  has  a  form 
and  body  instinct  with  its  spirit  and  life.  Joining 
the  host  of  God's  elect,  consenting  to  its  divine 
order,  and  consecrating  ourselves  to  the  purpose  of 
its  expedition,  we  shall  at  least  be  serene  in  the 
light  of  his  countenance.  He  shall,  amid  all  diver 
sities  and  contentions,  send  his  angel  of  good  cheer 
to  stand  beside  us,  and,  through  all  the  dark,  to 
point  to  the  vanishing  forms  of  sin  and  the  fleeing 
spectres  of  woe.  The  ill  demons  that  infest  our 
quiet,  when  we  lean  on  our  own  arm,  with  discon 
solate  and  desperate  attempt  to  heal  our  sins  and 
cure  the  plagues  of  mankind,  shall  disappear  before 
the  breath  of  his  mouth  and  the  brightness  of  his 
power.  The  low  facts  and  miserable  circumstances 
of  human  life  shall  cease  and  fall  away,  as  we  lift 
2* 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

our  eye  to  the  effulgence  of  his  holiness.  The 
private  sorrows  that  deject  us,  like  hard  masters 
and  cruel  giants,  binding  and  scourging  us  in  soli 
tude,  shall  retreat  from  the  conscious  glory  in  us 
of  his  presence.  The  reviving  beams,  that  kindle 
our  hearts,  shall  shoot  out  to  scatter  darkness  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  and  into  the  future  advance 
omens  of  the  yielding  of  all  the  powers  of  Satan  to 
a  divine  and  eternal  reign. 

But,  be  it  not  forgotten,  all  this,  under  God,  de 
pends  on  an  appreciation,  not  only  of  the  mere 
blank  design  of  the  gospel,  but  of  the  wisdom  with 
which,  in  the  form  and  manner  of  its  proceeding, 
it  addresses  itself  to  its  design,  and  of  the  demand 
it  makes  therein  for  our  co-operation.  The  absolute, 
intrinsic  cause  of  all  that  is  intended  or  desired  for 
human  redemption,  to  make  earth  happy  or  open 
the  door  of  heaven,  is  matchless  and  perfect.  It 
only  requires  to  be  attached  to  those  vehicles  which 
shall  bear  it,  in  us  and  in  all  men,  to  its  appropriate 
effects. 

It  but  remains  to  say,  what  my  readers  will 
notice,  that  the  subjects,  whose  treatment  I  have 
thus  introduced,  beginning  with  those  religious 
modes  and  ministrations  in  the  habits  of  the  Chris 
tian  community,  which  young  and  old  everywhere 
together,  under  one  or  another  variation  of  them, 
witness  or  partake,  open  at  last  into  some  larger 
themes,  in  which  the  body  may  seem  to  become 
spiritual,  and  the  gospel-form  refined  and  expanded, 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

without  losing  its  distinctiveness,  melts  into  iden 
tity  with  the  gospel-idea  as  a  mode  of  truth,  rather 
than  of  external  custom  or  observance.  I  trust 
it  will  not  appear  that  this  transition  leads  me 
away  from  the  proper  treatment  of  my  whole  sub 
ject,  as  I  do  not  contradict  the  philosophic  sense, 
lying  in  my  own  mind,  of  the  title  which  I  have 
chosen ;  as  the  outward  shape  of  Christianity  is 
nearly  allied  to  its  inward  quality ;  and  as,  I  be 
lieve,  the  succeeding  discourses  only  pass  over  the 
just  degrees  of  this  union,  so  as  fairly  to  disclose  the 
vital  and  organic  power  of  our  religion.  Feeling 
that,  in  all,  I  have  but  hinted  at  one  particular 
posture  of  a  great  theme,  —  to  the  friends  found 
by  a  former  book,  and  to  all  who,  for  aught  I  have 
said,  may  find  Christianity  made  more  sacred  and 
dear,  I  dedicate  this  volume. 


DISCOURSE   I. 


ORDINANCES. 

Luke  i.  6.  —  AND  THEY  WERE  BOTH  RIGHTEOUS  BEFORE  GOD,  WALK 
ING  IN  ALL  THE  COMMANDMENTS  AND  ORDINANCES  OF  THE  LORD 
BLAMELESS. 

THERE  is  something  remarkable  in  what  the  evange 
list  here  mentions  for  the  ground  of  his  eulogy.  The 
persons  to  whom  he  refers  had  not  only,  he  tells  us, 
lived  a  good  moral  life,  but  had  also  discharged  the 
established  offices  of  their  religion.  They  had  kept 
its  holy  days,  sought  its  consecrated  places,  offered 
its  appointed  sacrifices,  lifted  up  its  choral  psalms, 
and  bowed  in  its  regular  and  lowly  prayers.  And 
was  this  a  reason  why  they  should  be  so  praised, 
—  for  observing  a  seventh  day,  going  into  the  doors 
of  a  synagogue,  carrying  up  doves  and  lambs  to 
an  altar,  and  still  walking  in  this  daily  circle,  con 
tinued,  with  occasional  variations,  through  the  an 
nual  round  ?  Was  such  punctiliousness  to  be 
esteemed  meritorious,  even  in  addition  to  such  a 
thing  as  private  purity  ?  What  did  it  signify,  this 
stated  course  of  external  proceeding,  done  or  not 
done  ?  It  signified  their  reverence  for  God.  It 


22  ORDINANCES. 

was  their  hearts'  language  to  their  Maker.  It  was 
the  way  they  told  to  their  Author,  and  the  Lord  of 
their  people  and  of  the  whole  earth,  their  thank 
fulness,  penitence,  and  worship.  Why  should  not 
this  sincere  expression  be  as  much  worth,  and  as 
clear  a  basis  of  commendation,  as  any  personal 
virtue?  Why  should  a  moral  act  of  kindness  or 
honesty  be  more  accounted  of  than  a  ritual  act  of 
devotion,  or  a  word  of  veracity  or  good  temper  on 
earth  be  more  needful  than  an  expression  of  truth 
and  loyalty  to  heaven  ?  Are  the  principles  of 
righteousness  less  involved  in  our  bearing  towards 
our  Creator  than  in  our  deportment  to  a  fellow- 
man  ?  Truly  it  may  be  doubted  if  any  one  can 
show  us  why  the  whole  language  of  an  unfeigned 
recognition  and  adoration,  in  ancient  or  modern 
times,  of  invisible  powers,  by  offerings,  kneelings, 
and  prostrations,  by  poetry  and  song,  by  just  pen 
ance  and  expiation,  does  not  proceed  as  deep  from 
the  soul  as  any  worldly  honor  or  civil  integrity. 

These  days  in  which  we  live  are  days  of  much 
contempt  or  indifference  for  the  wonted  forms  and 
exercises  of  religion.  We  have  grown  to  be  very 
spiritual  in  these  latter  times.  Not  a  few  have,  in 
the  phrase  now  in  vogue,  got  to  be  above  ordi 
nances.  Set  hours,  and  dedicated  courts,  and  fixed 
orders  of  performance,  and  public  demonstrations 
of  reverence,  are  a  kind  of  beggarly  elements  with 
them.  This  aversion  to  appearance  and  exhibition, 
however,  applies  only  to  matters  of  religion.  If 


ORDINANCES.  23 

they  can  witness  anywhere  a  display  of  genius  in 
other  things ;  if  they  can  listen  to  this  world's  elo 
quence,  feed  their  intellect  with  its  art,  or  please 
their  fancy  with  its  show,  they  go  eager  and  stay 
content.  As  for  the  rest,  it  is  chaff  and  dross  and 
refuse.  Of  coming  to  church  that  they  may  give 
to  the  Almighty  his  due,  they  do  not  dream.  If 
they  can  get  entertainment  or  information  better 
otherwise,  they  will  not  frequent  the  sanctuary.  If 
their  children  would  rather  read  or  play  or  idle 
than  engage  in  the  supplication  and  instruction  of 
God's  house,  they  are  allowed  to  wander  or  remain 
at  home.  This  disparagement  of  religious  forms 
and  services,  wherever  existing  or  suffered,  with  the 
young  or  the  old,  is  not  well,  and  cannot  come  to 
good. 

But  one  will  say,  "  If  I  am  upright,  a  man  of  my 
word,  just  in  my  dealings,  and  temperate  in  my 
habits,  of  what  moment  is  it  that  I  should  join  to 
this  sum  and  substance  of  excellence  an  outward 
ceremonial  ?  "  It  is  doubly  momentous,  I  answer, 
because  it  becomes  you  to  be  a  religious  as  well  as 
a  moral  man ;  and  because,  furthermore,  social  as 
well  as  private  religion  is  the  duty  of  man  and  the 
security  of  the  world.  Man  owes  worship  to  his 
Maker  not  only  as  an  individual,  but  as  a  commu 
nity  ;  and  it  is  not  safe  that  the  public  worship  he 
owes  should  be  thus  slighted,  nor  wise  that  our  own 
pleasure  should  be  preferred.  This  public  worship, 
this  solemn,  joint  acknowledgment  of  God  which 


24  ORDINANCES. 

we  propose,  God  himself  asks,  and  all  human  his 
tory  proves  the  importance  of  rendering.  By  it,  a 
restraining,  saving  power  has  descended  into  the 
erring  human  heart,  through  all  climes  and  ages. 
It  is  hard  indeed  to  tell  whether  this  practice  of 
worship  is  greater  as  a  defence  or  as  a  positive 
blessing.  Remove  it,  and  in  the  flood  of  mischief 
that  would  roll  and  the  gulf  of  ruin  that  would 
yawn,  we  should,  at  least,  as  in  some  territory 
desolated  by  the  rage  of  the  overflowing  river,  or  in 
the  ruins  gathered  at  the  spot  whence  a  warning 
sea-mark  has  been  washed  away,  see  where  had 
stood  the  bank  against  the  tides  of  human  passion, 
and  what  had  held  back  the  race  from  wreck  and 
disaster.  The  poet,  relating  the  wondrous  tale  how 
sin  first  came  on  earth,  says  the  evil  spirit  made  for 
man's  first  journey  a  road  from  this  world  to  the 
regions  of  destruction,  that  the  descent  might  be 
easy.  Ah !  that  road,  however  constructed,  is  still 
smooth  and  broad;  some  evil  spirit  is  ever  busy 
to  keep  it  in  repair,  and  hosts  are  running  and 
enticing  to  run  down  its  open  passages  ;  while  tem 
ples  and  sabbaths  and  sacred  rites  do  none  too 
much,  as  directions  and  guides,  to  clear  the  other 
road  to  God  and  holiness  and  heaven.  The  travel 
ler  finds  the  path  strait,  rough,  and  stony  up  to 
the  mountain-top,  which  he  needs  all  assistance  to 
reach ;  while  the  ways  into  the  comfort  and  popu 
lation  of  the  globe  are  wide,  inviting,  and  easy. 
I  certainly  would  not  brand  as  reasonless  and 


ORDINANCES.  25 

unaccountable  all  disgust  at  ecclesiastic  customs 
that  may  anywhere  obtain.  When  the  simplicity 
of  the  gospel  is  overlaid  with  the  inventions  of  man, 
and  a  minute  multiplication  of  mechanical  methods 
is  made  essential  to  salvation  ;  and  quarrels,  in  pro 
portion  to  their  subject  preposterously  warm  and 
extensive,  are  kindled  about  robes  and  candles,  and 
wordings  and  postures  ;  when  shapes  of  superfluous 
and  unauthorized  emblems,  of  oil  and  salt  and  in 
cense,  are  trivially  used  to  play  various  artificial 
parts  beside  the  truly  beautiful  water  of  baptism, 
by  Christ  received  and  sanctioned,  and  a  wafer  is 
turned  into  a  deity  for  the  bread  he  meant  as  a  me 
morial  of  his  life  and  symbol  of  his  spirit,  —  it  is  not 
wonderful,  perhaps,  that  some  should  be  driven  into 
a  distaste  for  the  whole  subject  of  church  customs 
and  traditions.  Yet  this  is  but  the  other  extreme. 
This  is  confounding  the  whole  field  with  certain 
limited  aspects.  This  is  trying  to  become  wise  by 
an  inversion  or  exchange  of  folly.  Repugnance 
may  mislead  as  well  as  superstition,  and  Puritanic 
bareness  be  as  unedifying  as  Romish  or  Episcopal 
pomp. 

But,  it  is  said,  we  love  a  spiritual  religion.  Al 
low  me,  then,  to  ask,  what  is  a  spiritual  religion  but 
a  religion  that  makes  men  spiritual  ?  Are  you  there 
fore  spiritual  for  your  neglect  of  the  Christian  insti 
tutions  ?  Does  your  experience  or  your  observation 
find  spiritual  life  flowing  from  such  a  source  ?  Is 
it  spirituality  or  worldliness  that  is  most  apt  to  ii> 
3 


26  ORDINANCES. 

dulge  itself  with  a  dispensation  of  absence  from  the 
house,  and  disregard  of  the  worship,  of  God  ?  Does 
the  beauty  of  holiness  or  the  stamp  of  some  earthly 
aim  most  commonly  mark  the  mind  that  forsakes 
this  grave  and  noble  service  going  out  of  our  com 
mon  nature  and  common  heart  ?  Is  there  not,  in 
short,  more  of  fancy  and  speculation,  than  of  sen 
timent  or  principle,  in  the  piety  that  scorns  ordi 
nances  ?  and  does  not  some  poor  votary  of  the 
shrine  of  prayer,  who,  confined  to  her  solitary  room 
by  illness,  Bible  and  hymn-book  in  hand,  keeps 
pace  with  the  procedure  of  the  congregation's 
praise,  soar  far  higher  into  the  real  heaven  ?  To 
whom  is  the  celestial  paradise  and  kingdom  of 
heaven  most  likely  to  be  a  figure  of  speech,  and  not 
a  matter  of  fact,  —  to  the  faithful  attendant  with 
those  that  keep  holy  time,  or  to  the  willing  absentee 
from  their  assembly  ? 

There  is  a  danger  of  formalism,  and  there  is  a 
vice  of  hypocrisy.  But  our  prevailing  tendency  is 
to  be  more  pre-occupied  with  the  lower  affairs  of 
this  mundane  sphere  than  even  with  the  pretence 
of  devotion ;  and  some  sordid  savor,  some  smell  of 
the  earth  or  vulgar  leaning,  may  commonly  be  per 
ceived  in  the  strong  man  who  despises  or  declines 
from  "walking  in  the  commandments  and  ordi 
nances  of  the  Lord,"  and  withholds  payment  of  his 
public  debt,  like  the  Jew  whom  God,  by  the  pro 
phet,  reproved  with  robbing  him  in  tithes  and 
offerings.  The  truth  is,  it  is  not  according  to  our 


ORDINANCES.  27 

nature  that  our  religious  thoughts  and  purposes 
should  be  either  exercised  happily  or  grow  vigor 
ously,  as  mere  abstractions  wholly  within  the  mind. 
The  faculties  of  the  soul,  subjectively  working 
separate  from  actual  occasions,  soon  become  like 
the  upper  and  nether  millstones  grinding  unrelieved 
and  wastefully  upon  each  other.  The  holiest  emo 
tions  ask  a  vent,  and  would  burst  out  through  some 
channel  to  their  object  with  healthy  ebb  and  flow, 
giving  their  tribute  and  taking  back  refreshment 
and  nourishment.  Such  a  reciprocal  action,  and, 
of  course,  some  method  by  which  it  may  go  on,  is, 
by  a  law  of  our  being,  made  essential  to  the  sound 
ness  and  cheerfulness  of  our  inward  state.  Some 
moving  observance  and  administration  of  an  ap 
pointed  rite  has  not  seldom  been  an  infinite  con 
solation,  —  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  a  thirsty  soul, 
even  to  the  end  of  life. 

Not  as  a  superstition  or  weakness,  then,  but 
among  the  graces  and  virtues  of  the  character,  may 
be  justly  counted  a  love  of  holy  times  and  places 
and  things.  So,  indeed,  nature  herself,  the  heart's 
own  instinct,  decides.  For  who  esteems  a  man 
the  more  for  being  destitute  of  this  feeling,  and 
owning  no  such  association  as  made  David's  heart 
yearn  for  the  stones  of  Zion,  and  her  dust  dear  unto 
him ;  nay,  led  our  Saviour  himself,  on  the  sabbath- 
day,  as  his  custom  was,  into  the  synagogue,  in  the 
town  where  he  had  been  brought  up,  to  open  the 
b  ook  of  the  law  and  read  ?  If  the  royal  singer  of 


28  ORDINANCES. 

Israel,  and  his  greater  descendant,  could  light  the 
flame  of  their  aspirations  with  that  ancient  fuel  of 
letter  and  form  and  ordinance,  —  he  may  be  consi 
dered  a  mistaken,  vain-glorious,  or  imprudent  man, 
who,  from  any  hatred  of  old  priestly  corruptions,  or 
offence  at  existing  clerical  pride,  or  supposition  of 
a  personal  superiority,  not  needing  foreign  influ 
ence,  loses  or  throws  away  the  advantage  of  such 
habitual  suggestives  of  those  invisible  and  eternal 
realities,  of  which  we  are  not  too  often  reminded, 
and  which  we  do  not  powerfully  enough  feel  press 
on  the  heart  and  control  the  life. 

Will  any  one  still  say  it  does  not  strike  him  so 
seriously?  Will  he  allege,  that,  for  his  own  part, 
he  can  afford  to  be  slack  on  these  points  ;  and  that 
he  will,  for  his  trust,  fare  forth  into  the  unbounded 
freedom  of  reason  and  nature  ?  Ah !  that  measure 
less  field  of  reason  and  nature  is  too  large  to  pro 
tect  us.  We  are  lost,  we  perish  in  it !  Just  as  the 
whole  great  ball  of  the  earth,  with  the  vast  spread 
of  the  atmosphere,  is  not  a  shelter  for  us ;  but  to 
preserve  the  body,  guard  health,  and  lengthen  life, 
we  must  build  a  house  on  it  against  the  wildness 
and  the  storm :  so  the  house  of  God  is  our  neces 
sary  retreat  from  the  bleakness  of  an  unfathomed 
universe,  from  tempests  of  mortal  trial,  and  the 
winter  of  death.  As,  when  the  first  snow  falls,  and 
the  north  wind  blows,  every  one  rejoices  in  his  roof 
and  his  hearth ;  so  may  we  in  the  eaves  of  the 
sanctuary,  and  that  fire  of  the  Holy  Ghost  they 


ORDINANCES.  29 

cover.  To  run  away  from  these,  relying  on  nature 
and  reason  for  a  refuge,  is  like  seeking  the  craggy, 
icy,  and  blustering  peaks  for  a  dwelling.  Some 
young  men  lately  went  forth,  thinly  clad,  and  trust 
ing  to  themselves  to  reach  the  summit  of  one  of 
our  loftiest  hills.  When  they  started,  the  sun  was 
warm,  the  breeze  soft,  the  path  grassy,  and  all  was 
inviting.  But  soon  the  zephyr  turned  to  a  blast, 
and  the  sunshine  seemed  stiffening  to  frost,  and  the 
way  had  become  flint,  and  the  unmoving  granite 
rocks  around  them  seemed  to  be  terribly  working  a 
petrifaction  of  stupor  and  death  within.  Benumbed 
and  overwearied,  they  sat  down  to  weep,  and,  had 
not  assistance  come  to  them,  would  have  surely 
died.  So  is  it  with  solitary  wanderers  in  the  light 
of  their  own  minds  through  this  mysterious  creation 
towards  the  incomprehensible  eternity.  The  begin 
ning  flatters  and  allures,  but  the  powers  of  nature 
fail  on  the  ascent.  The  progress  is  deviation ;  and 
the  end,  bewilderment  and  death.  Names  from 
among  the  living  and  the  departed  alike  might  be 
given  in  melancholy  illustration  of  so  untoward  a 
destiny. 

But,  once  more,  it  may  be  said,  these  external 
forms  and  ordinances  are  surely  not  the  object  or 
end  of  religion,  and  therefore  deserve  from  us  no 
such  earnest  attention.  True,  they  are  not  the  end. 
The  end  is  the  spirit's  everlasting  consecration  to 
God  and  duty.  But,  if  the  end  is  important,  are  not 
the  means  important?  If  the  reality  and  essence 
3* 


30  ORDINANCES. 

be  of  supreme  concern,  shall  we  despise  the  steps 
by  which  we  may  attain  to  it  ?  On  this  ladder  the 
angels,  now  pure  ethereal  flames,  went  up,  not 
spurning  the  degrees  by  which  they  rose,  and  we 
must  ascend.  The  way  worn  by  so  many  passing 
generations  should  be  to  us  only  the  more  dear. 
This  general  plea  stands,  of  course,  independent  of 
any  particular  criticism  of  the  varieties  of  service 
and  procedure  in  different  portions  of  the  Christian 
church.  Rome  or  London  or  Geneva  may  have 
each  one  its  own  peculiarity  of  religious  manners. 
We  have  our  order,  handed  down  to  us  by  our 
fathers  with  no  overloading  weight  of  ceremony, 
no  excessive  number  of  exercises,  and  no  tedious 
consumption  of  time.  It  is  as  simple  as  the  New 
Testament.  It  is  the  least  we  can  do  in  testimony 
of  our  social  allegiance  to  God,  and  fidelity  to  his 
Son.  The  heathens  thought  their  gods  would  be 
angry,  and  national  misfortunes  befall,  if  the  sacri 
fices  were  withheld.  We  may  count  this  a  super 
stition,  or  smile  at  it  as  a  pleasant  fable.  But  we 
cannot  imagine  the  true  and  living  God  will  be 
pleased  with  a  contempt  of  the  worship  he  has 
ordained,  and  the  rites  his  representative  Messiah 
has  sanctioned ;  or  that  any  benefit  can  follow  in 
the  morality,  happiness,  and  peace  of  a  people,  by 
whom  so  reasonable  a  service  is  slept  over,  wearied 
of,  or  set  aside.  If  we  will  not  turn  all  the  sacred 
traditions  of  the  gospel,  the  work  of  the  revealing 
spirit  and  divine  providence,  into  a  pile  of  vanity, 


ORDINANCES.  31 

hither  then  let  us  come  to  pay  our'  holy  tribute 
together  to  our  Author.  Let  us  be  drawn  by  no 
curiosity,  by  no  ear  itching  for  novel  doctrine  or 
exciting  appeal,  but  by  our  desire  and  necessity  to 
acknowledge  in  common  the  common  Maker  of 
our  frame  and  Giver  of  our  mercies.  Let  us  intend, 
not  general  cultivation  of  our  minds,  or  an  agreeable 
way  of  passing  the  hour,  but  worship,  —  whole,  un 
divided,  universal,  Christian  worship, —  worship,  not 
only  in  the  hymn  and  the  express  devotions,  but  in 
the  sermon  too,  which  should  but  set  forth  those 
ideas  and  laws  of  the  Most  High,  in  mutually 
meditating  and  submitting  to  which  we  put  up  a 
more  acceptable  respect  than  any  perfume  of  spices, 
or  smoke  of  burnt  sacrifice.  This  is  here  our  busi 
ness.  Can  we  not  do  this  ?  Can  we  not  find  for 
ourselves  and  our  children  a  worth,  a  beauty,  and 
honor  in  doing  it?  Nay,  can  the  very  sense  of  reli 
gion  in  the  heart,  binding  man's  brotherhood  to 
God's  fatherhood,  suffer  us  to  be  content  with  doing 
any  thing  less  ? 

We  will  not  be  formalists.  Verily,  it  is  not  our 
chief  peril.  We  will  not  think  the  regeneration  of 
an  innocent  child,  or  its  entrance  into  heaven,  is 
suspended  on  the  sprinkling  of  water  from  mortal 
hands  over  a  spotless  spirit  Yet  may  we  discern 
significance  and  power  in  the  act  of  dedication, 
which,  from  the  infancy  of  our  religion,  presses  the 
life  of  the  church  into  the  parent's  offering,  with 
vows  and  tears,  of  what  is  most  precious  on  earth 


32  ORDINANCES. 

his  eyes  can  behold,  even  the  child  whom  he  may 
therefore  train  more  carefully,  and  lead  to  adopt  his 
own  solemnized  deed  and  purpose.  So  it  were  not 
only  vanity,  but  moral  enervation  and  corruption, 
to  suppose  that  mere  partaking  of  the  bread  and 
wine  of  the  communion  will  guard  us  against  evil, 
and  repel  the  wiles  of  Satan  with  the  sort  of  virtue 
once  imagined  to  reside  in  charms  and  amulets 
worn  upon  the  person.  The  shield  of  faith  only 
can  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil ;  and 
something  divine  and  Christ-like  in  the  inmost 
temper  must  resist  infection  from  the  plague  of  sin 
and  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world.  But  if  the  ordi 
nance,  which  grief  and  sickness  and  death  have 
participated;  which  confessors' tears  and  martyrs' 
blood  have  embalmed,  when  observed  in  the  soul's 
sincerity  after  the  Master's  request,  can  unques 
tionably  nourish  this  temper,  and  strengthen  us  to 
grasp  this  shield,  —  with  what  respect  for  wisdom 
or  righteousness  do  so  many  go  away  from  and 
neglect  it  ? 

A  late  writer  has  said  that  the  Congregational 
Church  has  degenerated  into  an  audience.  If  it  be 
an  audience,  let  it  be  an  audience  that  listens  to  the 
word  of  God,  hearkens  to  the  whisper  of  his  spirit, 
and  breathes  responses  from  its  own  common  soul. 
Let  it  not  be  an  audience  of  cold  units,  of  isolated, 
self-conscious  individuals,  unacceptable  to  the  Fa 
ther,  wherever  met,  in  whatever  building  on  the 
earlh;  but  let  it  be  converted  into  a  church  by 


ORDINANCES.  33 

united  love  of  God,  and  respect  for  the  monuments 
of  Christ's  religion. 

Let  us  never  deem  these  monuments  a  mere 
form,  antiquated  and  obsolete ;  which  they  are  not, 
unless  sacrilegiously  so  made  by  our  impiety  or 
unconcern.  Let  us  not  say,  moral  and  spiritual 
excellence  is  alone  worth  our  thought,  and  then 
absurdly  violate  our  conclusion  by  being  blindly 
ignorant  of  the  path  over  which  we  must  travel  in 
order  that  this  ideal  excellence  may  be  reached. 
Let  the  house  of  God,  with  all  it  holds  and  conveys, 
challenge  from  us  its  own  exclusive  and  exceeding 
honor.  It  may  be  humbly  built  of  the  same  earth 
and  timber  as  a  common  dwelling,  or  outshone  by 
the  granite  and  gilding  of  a  warehouse  or  railroad 
station.  Still  is  it  reared  for  purposes  of  a  loftier 
pitch  and  more  enduring  glory;  and  the  triumph 
proper  to  it  is  no  sectarian  triumph,  no  private  am 
bition  in  pulpit  or  pew,  but  the  triumph  of  Him 
whose  right  it  is  to  reign, 


DISCOURSE   II. 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

Eph.  iv.  4.  —  THERE   IS   ONE   BODY   AND    ONE   SPIHIT. 

THE  word  body  is  often  in  the  New  Testament 
used  in  a  peculiar  sense.  Jesus,  breaking  the  bread 
of  the  last  supper  to  his  disciples,  says  to  them, 
"  This  is  my  body."  The  whole  church  of  his  fol 
lowers  is  afterwards  in  the  Epistles  repeatedly 
called  his  body.  Paul  tells  the  Colossians  that  the 
old  Jewish  festivals  and  ceremonies  were  but  a  sha 
dow  of  Christ's  body. 

What  is  this  body  of  Christ,  of  which  in  the 
Scriptures  so  much  mention  is  made  ?  It  evidently 
is  not  his  literal  flesh,  the  material  members  of  a 
physical  system  dissolved  and  long  since  passed 
away ;  but  something  substantial,  and  enduring  on 
earth  after  he  died  and  rose  and  ascended  to  heaven. 
All  the  expressions  used  can  be  satisfied  by  no 
thought  but  this,  that  Christ's  body  means  what 
ever  embodies  his  mind,  whether  it  be  the  works  he 
did,  the  words  he  said,  or  the  institutions  he  estab 
lished.  Our  text,  "  There  is  one  body  and  one 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  35 

spirit,"  confirms  this  understanding  by  the  natural 
analogy  its  correlative  terms  present. 

We  have  said  and  heard  much  of  Christ's  spirit, 
by  which,  of  course,  is  meant  all  that  is  wise  and 
good  and  holy  in  his  moral  attributes,  every  lovely 
and  winning  grace  of  his  character.  Now,  the  body 
of  Christ  is  whatever  contains  and  to  our  appre 
hensions  realizes  these ;  makes  his  spirit,  with  all  its 
beautiful  qualities,  vital  and  operative.  Whatever 
on  earth  caught  and  retained  his  heaven-descended 
temper ;  whatever  became  here  below  the  medium 
of  its  communication,  or  opened  a  passage  for  it 
to  shine  and  flow,  to  stay  and  work  in  the  world,  — 
whether  it  were  a  recorded  word  or  an  oral  tradi 
tion,  a  living  soul  or  an  appointed  ordinance,  — 
that  was  and  is  his  body. 

We  thus  see  the  importance  of  Christ's  body. 
May  it  not  be  said  that  the  body  is  as  necessary  as 
the  spirit,  and  necessary  in  order  that  we  may  come 
to  and  get  the  spirit  ?  As,  in  the  external  world,  it 
is  not  the  absolute  greatness  or  beauty  of  things 
that  moves  us,  but  only  that  amount  of  their  great 
ness  and  portion  of  their  beauty  which  may  be  made 
appreciable  through  our  senses  to  our  minds ;  so, 
of  the  intrinsic  and  wonderful  spirit  of  Christ,  what 
is  sensibly  conducted  to  us  can  alone  touch  and 
renew  the  heart.  So  much  has  been  of  late  mono 
tonously  spoken  about  the  spirit  of  Christ,  that  it 
may  be  feared  it  has  been  converted  with  many 
into  a  phrase  without  meaning,  or  having  only  a 


36  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

very  vague  import.  Many  seem,  indeed,  hardly  to 
know  what  they  themselves  understand  by  it,  whe 
ther  any  thing  definite  in  the  life  of  Jesus ;  or  how 
they  should  distinguish  the  language  they  use  from 
any  other  general  phraseology,  such  as  the  spirit  of 
the  times,  or  the  genius  of  civilization ;  or  what 
discrimination  there  is  between  the  spirit  of  Christ 
and  the  plans  and  progress  of  this  nineteenth  cen 
tury,  or  how  it  is  differenced  from  the  prevalent 
feeling  in  any  club  or  band  of  friendly  associates ; 
nay,  even  from  any  agreeable  disposition  in  an  indi 
vidual  breast.  Amid  this  confusion,  is  it  not  time 
to  reflect  that  we  cannot  perceive  or  define  Christ's 
spirit,  save  in  and  through  Christ's  body,  or  the 
concrete  historic  substance  of  his  being;  through 
his  person  and  deportment,  his  discourses  and  deeds, 
his  gospel  and  church,  the  baptism  he  was  baptized 
with,  and  the  cup  he  drank  ?  Destroy  or  lose  sight 
of  these,  and  the  spirit  flies  and  escapes  our  grasp, 
no  more  to  be  embraced  by  us  than  a  shade ;  just 
as  the  soul  of  a  man  departs  when  his  body  is  dead, 
and  only  by  the  manifestations  that  have  been  made 
through  it  can  we  know  where,  or  what  manner 
of  man,  he  is. 

We  thus  see,  from  a  special  point  of  view,  the 
value  of  religion  in  its  institutions  and  rites,  its  holy 
times  and  places,  the  sabbath  and  the  temple,  the 
bowl  and  the  table,  as  well  as  in  its  abstract  ideas 
of  truth  and  its  pure  suggestions  of  duty.  For 
these  visible  and  established  things  are  the  body  in 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  37 

which  the  invisible  glories  of  the  gospel  are  held, 
and  by  which  they  are  conveyed.  The  precious 
odor  which  is  not  enclosed  is  dissipated ;  the  trea 
sure  is  liable  to  loss  or  plunder,  if  locked  in  no 
casket:  so  the  essence  even  of  piety  evaporates, 
and  the  riches  of  immortal  value  are  scattered, 
when  not  put  into  our  possession  in  some  solid 
and  abiding  shape.  Although  this  fragrance  of 
goodness  and  this  wealth  of  moral  power  are  to  be 
carried  with  us  whithersoever  we  go,  to  adorn  hu 
man  life,  to  replenish  and  gladden  the  whole  earth ; 
yet,  to  renew  the  stores  we  thus  bear  through  our 
pilgrimage,  must  we  resort  ever  afresh  to  the  great 
fund  and  divine  fountain  in  the  Heaven-ordained 
and  imperishable  body  of  Christ. 

Brethren,  in  our  perhaps  unthinking  talk  of  the 
spirit,  have  we  not  lost  the  spirit  by  overlooking  the 
body  ?  Take  an  illustration  from  this  pleasant 
light  of  day,  which  since  the  dawn  has  been  pour 
ing  so  beautifully  around  us.  It  is  not  only  needful 
there  should  be  in  the  universe  a  diffused,  general 
quality  of  light,  but  a  source,  a  body  of  light  in 
the  sun,  —  a  fire  fed  there  by  ever-new  fuel  laid  on 
by  the  almighty  hand ;  and  then  the  bright,  un 
fading  gleam  will  go  forth  to  warm  the  wide  crea 
tion,  to  glance  on  the  remotest  orb,  and  illumine 
the  path  of  the  myriad  families  of  God.  But  break 
that  golden  urn,  trust  to  any  universal  radiance 
that  has  gone  forth,  or  to  any  indefinite  quality  of 
light  lurking  here  and  there,  and,  after  a  while,  the 
4 


38  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

dancing  atoms  would  all  have  travelled  by ;  lamp 
after  lamp  in  the  vault  of  heaven  would  turn  pale, 
flicker,  and  go  out ;  and  over  the  scene  would  creep 
the  shadows  of  darkness,  in  which  every  living  thing 
would  grope  and  perish.  So  despise  the  institu 
tions  and  ordinances  of  religion,  veil  in  doubt  the 
hand  of  miracle,  with  your  scepticism  unstring  the 
sweet  and  far-ringing  harp  of  prophecy,  with  some 
late  free-thinkers  make  the  New  Testament  a  myth 
or  half-fabulous  story,  confound  the  sabbath  with 
the  week,  empty  forth  from  the  broken  font  the  bap 
tismal  water,  sweep  the  bread  and  wine  from  the 
board  of  communion,  style  what  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago  was  written  in  the  Holy  Covenant  dead 
letter;  or,  to  sum  up  all  this  destruction  in  one 
image,  break  or  desert  the  bright  and  glorious  urn 
of  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  and  confide  alone  in  any 
generalities  of  wisdom  and  conceits  of  philosophy, 
in  any  pantheistic  speculations  or  pretended  abso 
lute  religion,  —  and  how  soon  would  moral  darkness 
cover  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people ! 

No,  we  must  have  Christ's  body  as  well  as  his 
spirit.  We  must  have  his  body  that  we  may  have 
his  spirit  His  spirit  is  identified  with  him,  with 
his  person  and  precepts  and  institutes.  It  was  not 
a  mere  wandering  breeze  that  for  a  moment  played 
through  him,  like  the  air  through  organ-pipes  while 
a  hymn  is  sung ;  but  something  fixed  and  living  in 
him,  for  which  we  must  go  to  him,  which  is  found 
incarnate  in  his  life  and  eloquent  on  his  lips,  as  our 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  39 

own  imagination  could  never  shape  or  reason  infer 
it.  For  Christ's  religion  is  an  actual  as  well  as  an 
ideal  religion,  and  truly  and  efficiently  ideal  because 
actual.  As  the  fair  and  grand  scenes  of  nature, 
when  beheld  afresh,  ever  convince  us  anew  that  we 
do  not,  according  to  the  poetic  fancy,  create  them, 
but  rather  that  they  present  a  beauty  to  us  up  to 
which  our  minds  must  stretch  and  grow;  so  the 
facts  of  Christianity  give  us  our  types  and  patterns 
of  moral  beauty  and  spiritual  loveliness  to  make 
real  in  our  life. 

Do  I  not  here  touch  an  error  which  has  prevailed 
a  good  deal  among  ourselves  in  our  general  reli 
gious  connection  and  modes  of  thinking?  Are 
there  not  many  inclined  to  say,  "  It  matters  not 
whether  I  go  to  church  or  not ;  whether  I  read  the 
Bible  or  not;  whether  I  observe  family  or  private 
prayers  or  not ;  whether  I  have  my  children  baptized 
or  not ;  whether,  in  the  ordinance  of  the  supper,  I 
commemorate  and  commune  with  my  Saviour  or 
not.  All  these  things  are  but  forms,  accidental 
and  unessential,  needless  if  not  superstitious.  I,  for 
my  part,  will  have  the  religion  of  a  wise  and  think 
ing,  spiritual  man  or  woman,  and  not  cumber  my 
intelligence  with  the  burden  of  other  persons'  ignor 
ance,  or  stoop  to  creep  along  their  childish  ways." 
Ah,  my  friends !  were  all  this  claim  as  modest  as  it 
is  clear;  were  it  a  just  assumption,  and  not  an 
unconscious  satire ;  if  we  could  have  that  intrinsic 
wisdom,  pure  spirit,  and  godlike  understanding  and 


40  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

goodness  it  supposes,  then  the  outward  observance 
might  be  unnecessary,  or  injuriously  obstruct  the 
way.  But  let  us  ask  our  hearts  and  our  habits,  let 
us  ask  our  lives,  let  us  ask  those  inclinations  which 
go  actively  with  us  through  the  day,  sleep  only  at 
night  with  our  slumber,  and  wake  with  our  refresh 
ment,  —  if  we  have  thus  reached  the  end,  mounted 
the  height,  and  really  require  no  more  means,  guid 
ance,  or  furtherance.  If  life  and  heart  and  spotless 
purpose  give  no  such  full,  honest,  and  affirmative 
answer,  may  we  not  conclude  that  we  too  need  to 
look  to  the  body  of  Christ,  even  as  the  holy  apostles 
humbly  and  prayerfully  looked,  to  revive  in  us,  by  a 
frequent  stimulus  and  ever-new  supply,  the  so-soon 
wasted  energy  of  devotion,  of  practical  purity,  and 
an  unoffending  conscience  ? 

While,  in  many  quarters  among  us,  in  the  unloos 
ing  of  old  authority  and  the  uncertainty  of  new 
proceeding,  nature  is  confounded  by  many  an  empty 
abstraction,  and  curious  schemes  of  improvement 
are  proposed  to  draw  the  human  soul  out  of  its  very 
instincts,  and  an  uneasy  ambition  with  a  love  of 
change  gives  birth  to  some  constantly  new  plan, 
loudly  boasted  as  the  cure  of  all  evils  till  it  is  in  its 
turn  displaced  by  another,  —  it  is  truly  desirable  to 
know  if  there  be  some  common  and  permanent 
resource,  some  fountain  of  peace  and  refreshment, 
that  does  not,  like  the  false  mirage,  shift  its  place 
and  withdraw  its  illusory  brim  and  tempting 
draught,  but  flows  with  ever  uniform  supply. 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  41 

Verily,  such  a  resort  is  nowhere  provided,  save  in 
the  body  of  Christ. 

I  would  not  adopt,  far  less  attempt  to  impose, 
the  particular  technical  and  narrow  idea  of  Christ's 
body,  in  that  puny  and  corpse-like  stature  in  which, 
in  some  connections,  it  appears ;  but  contemplate  it 
in  the  largeness,  celestial  beauty,  and  humane  gene 
rosity  of  its  own  blessed  shape ;  in  all  those  things, 
in  taking  up  which  for  his  body,  his  spirit  showed 
its  marvellous  power.  Far  away  as  we  reckon 
earthly  space,  I  would  see  it  in  midnight  mountain 
prayers,  in  Gethsemane  prostrations,  on  the  cross, 
in  the  journey  to  Emmaus ;  now  with  more  than 
prophetic  dignity  in  the  Jewish  synagogue,  and 
anon  along  the  waves  that  bent  for  a  floor  to  his 
feet,  or  foamed  and  burst  over  the  side  of  his  ves 
sel,  or  sank  into  calm  at  his  word;  where  the 
sick  were  healed,  the  mourning  comforted,  and  the 
dead  raised ;  wherever  his  spirit  came  forth  to  be 
lodged  in  his  action,  enshrined  in  the  circumstances 
of  his  career,  and  preserved  as  mankind's  great  heri 
tage  for  all  ages ;  —  there  I  would  behold  his  body, 
the  container  and  expresser  of  his  spirit,  by  which 
we  can  rise  up  to  and  drink  of  it;  for  in  vain 
has  Christ  lived  in  the  world,  or  now  lives  in 
heaven,  unless  we  can  reach  him,  and  so  live  by 
him. 

Moreover,  let  me  say,  it  is  no  strange  or  arbitrary 
principle  that  I  here  unfold :  only  the  extraordinary 
and  superhuman  quality  of  the  being  and  influence 
4* 


42  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

in  question  may  give  it  some  singularity  of  appli 
cation.  But,  in  truth,  it  is  the  law  of  all  life  and 
action,  as  our  own  hearts  and  homes  demonstrate. 
It  is,  for  instance,  the  spirit  of  our  kindred  and 
friends  that  is  most  dear  to  us ;  but  is  not  the 
body,  the  form  and  face  and  voice,  precious  too,  as 
bringing  us  into  acquaintance  with  that  spirit,  and 
transporting  to  us  its  wealth  of  power  and  love? 
And  even  when  the  body  dies,  and  falls  into  cold 
and  senseless  clay  at  our  side,  we  do  not  spurn  or 
set  it  at  naught  like  other  clay.  We  remember  it 
was  the  body.  It  is  no  clod ;  but  still  in  every  fea 
ture  and  lineament,  where  intellect  and  affection 
once  played  and  yet  seemed  to  linger,  it  appears 
interwoven  and  overflowed  with  all  we  have  prized 
and  delighted  in.  It  speaks  of  the  familiar  and 
beloved  spirit,  as  whose  dwelling  it  demands  our 
tender  regard  and  reverent  handling ;  while,  as  with 
awful  gravity  of  respect,  that  no  royalty  can  com 
mand  and  no  trifling  procedure  must  abate,  or 
novel  trickery  disguise,  we  take  up  and  honor  and 
celebrate,  even  in  dusty  burial,  the  frame  once  con 
taining  it ;  the  spirit  itself  we  behold  transferred  to 
another  spiritual  and  celestial  body  above :  for,  as 
reason  and  Scripture  both  declare,  we  shall  doubt 
less  have  some  body  for  our  spirit  to  abide  in  for 
ever. 

Indeed,  the  relation,  on  which  proceeds  the  idea 
of  this  discourse,  is  involved  in  all  our  thought,  and 
penetrates  to  the  very  roots  of  our  nature.  Every 


THE    BODY    OP    CHRIST.  43 

thing  inward  and  real,  every  thing  growing  and 
lasting,  must  have  its  expression,  and  somehow  be 
bodied  forth.  The  poet,  in  language  which,  in 
some  sense,  we  can  accept,  says,  even  of  the  Infi 
nite  One, — 

"  All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
"Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

Each  living  principle  in  the  universe  takes  its  own 
body,  —  in  proportion  to  its  own  power  a  strong 
body,  —  through  which  alone  it  is  expressed  and 
known  and  operative  to  communicate  its  proper 
life.  The  great  First  Cause  ever  rushes  from  es 
sence  into  existence,  and  shows  himself  in  vast, 
various,  and  eternal  shaping;  all  brightness,  but 
the  light  of  his  face ;  all  motion,  but  the  trail  of 
his  clothing ;  and  every  natural  sound,  from  the  roar 
to  the  whisper,  but  some  accent  of  his  voice.  The 
soul  of  a  man,  too,  inevitably  proves  its  quickness 
or  ability  in  some  grosser  or  finer  visible  sign  and 
demonstration.  It  is  not,  indeed,  always  according 
to  the  size  or  muscular  force  of  its  fleshly  covering. 
A  great  and  fiery  soul,  making  of  a  little  stature 
only  its  conductor,  actually  embodies  itself  in  great 
achievements,  in  civil  revolutions,  moral  reforms, 
new  institutions  and  laws  ;  and  it  does  this  as 
naturally  and  inevitably  as  a  potent  germ  of  vege 
table  or  animal  life  swells  into  mighty  thews  and 
sinews,  or  towers  into  a  monarch  of  the  woods.  A 
vigorous  germ  of  nationality  puts  itself  forth  into 


44  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

an  imposing  figure  on  the  face  of  the  globe ;  from 
a  little  island  stretches  forth  Briarean  arms  till  it 
draws  the  earth  under  its  girdle,  or  silently  and 
heavily  slips,  like  a  glacier  from  Ural  Mountains,  to 
brace  a  hemisphere  with  the  keen  breath  of  its 
despotic  sway.  This  is  a  fixed  law.  To  the  ima 
ginary  principle  that  cannot  pronounce  itself,  like 
the  child  that  has  lost  its  tongue  and  cannot  speak, 
we  pay  no  heed.  It  exerts  no  influence,  having  no 
body.  But  a  principle  that  has  any  energy  makes 
to  itself  a  body,  and  will  keep  that  body  alive ;  as 
it  is  sometimes  seen  that  a  strong  will,  inspired  by 
genius  or  devotion  into  intense  activity,  preserves 
a  human  frame,  which,  under  any  imbecility  of 
spirit  added  to  its  own  weakness,  would  speedily 
slide  into  the  grave. 

It  is  an  inveterate,  ineradicable  belief  of  the  hu 
man  mind,  that  good  and  bad  demons,  existing  in 
the  universe,  are  ready  and  apt  to  take  form,  and 
make  of  themselves  some  manifestation.  But  it  is 
both  faith  and  fact,  that  the  greatest  power  ever 
sent  by  God  into  time  displays  itself  in  an  uncon 
querable  and  imperishable  form.  Christ  is  the  Son 
of  God,  and  Christianity  is  the  body  of  Christ ;  and 
Christ's  body,  in  its  unparalleled  greatness  and 
force,  is  his  argument.  The  phenomenal  figure 
and  agency  always  mark  and  measure  the  efficient 
cause.  We  need  not  continually  pore  among 
musty  records,  and  unearth  old  registers.  Outthrust 
strata,  and  mountains  bubbling  up,  tell  what  is  at 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  45 

work  beneath.  Take  the  vital  and  bodily  power  of 
any  thing  for  a  sign  of  its  quality,  and  sponsor  for 
its  birth,  as  you  would  the  depth  and  breadth  and 
speed  of  the  river  for  the  great  perennial  flow  of 
the  source  you  never  groped  into,  or  took  mathe 
matical  measures  of,  from  which  it  springs.  If 
other  depths  issue  in  no  streams,  refresh  no  homes, 
spread  from  their  deposit  no  fertile  fields,  and  build 
up  on  banks,  fashioned  for  their  own  course,  no 
villages  and  towns,  nor  bear  along  through  the 
world  any  freight  of  human  comfort  or  treasure  or 
hope,  then  it  signifies  not  to  boast  their  purity, 
or  reason  of  their  profundity.  The  institutions  of 
Christianity  are  the  evidences  of  Christianity ;  not 
dead,  but  living  witnesses. 

Christ's  body,  then,  —  composed,  not  of  fleshly 
organs  and  articulate  members,  nor  of  Christian  rites 
only,  but  also  of  the  living  members  of  his  church, 
his  true  followers  from  the  day  of  his  call  to  the 
fishermen  until  now ;  for  our  very  souls,  subtle  and 
invisible,  as  inspired  and  trained  by  him,  belong 
to  his  body ;  —  this  body,  I  say,  as  the  means  of 
our  edifying  and  salvation,  in  all  its  traits  and  pro 
portions  claims  our  respect.  Every  clear  and 
permanent  display  of  his  truth,  strength,  and  pu 
rity,  is  part  of  it.  The  very  walls  of  this  temple, 
gathering  something  of  the  hoar  look  of  age  upon 
them,  —  the  places  here  where  those  sat  who  were 
truly  joined  to  him,  —  the  holy  service,  which  has 
travelled  over  the  globe  farther  than  any  one  foot 


46  THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST. 

or  single  generation  of  man  has  gone,  —  the  plate 
and  cup,  from  which  the  symbolic  bread  and  wine 
have  been  taken  into  hands  and  lips  now  cold  and 
still,  —  the  one  sacred  day  in  seven,  which  has 
punctually  returned  ever  since  the  earth,  as  man's 
social  habitation,  was  made,  though  the  resurrec 
tion  of  Christ,  as  a  signal  of  its  grandeur,  was 
mighty  to  change  that  day's  place  for  the  light  of 
his  own  returning  countenance  ;  —  these  things,  in 
their  measure,  grandly  compose  it.  Its  maturer 
cast  is  seen  in  the  band  of  devoted  men  and 
women,  who,  in  their  several  positions,  regenera 
ting  and  reforming  the  race,  are  faithful  to  Christ's 
righteous  and  benevolent  cause.  Its  younger  and 
more  promising  look  may  be  beheld  in  the  new 
generation  of  children,  whom,  at  home  or  in  the 
Sunday-school,  we  instruct  and  lead  in  the  way  of 
Christ's  truth  and  precepts ;  and  in  whom  alone, 
thus  informed,  this  old  scarred  and  sickly  world, 
out  of  all  its  chronic  sins  and  invalid  decrepitudes, 
can  become  whole  and  new. 

If  we  neglect  these  things,  speak  of  them  scorn 
fully,  and  treat  them  lightly,  in  common  but  decep 
tive  and  irreligious  language,  styling  them  mere 
forms,  letting  the  body  of  Christ  consumptively 
decay  and  dwindle  among  us,  —  we  may  talk  com 
placently  as  we  will  of  the  spirit  of  Christ ;  but  it 
is  the  spirit  of  the  world  by  which  we  shall  be  pos 
sessed  and  moved,  and  to  whose  usurpation  we 
shall  surrender  the  throne  and  lordship  of  our 


THE    BODY    OF    CHRIST.  47 

hearts.  The  spirit  of  Christ,  which  can  never  be 
lost  absolutely,  will  yet  be  lost  for  us.  Absorbing 
business,  engrossing  pleasure,  political  ambition, 
party  power,  and  private  gain,  will  be  the  things 
securing  our  devotion,  in  their  spirit  and  their  body 
too.  The  street  and  the  shop,  the  hall  and  the 
caucus,  will  be  more  attractive  to  us  than  the  house 
or  the  worship  of  God,  or  the  immortal  realities  they 
signify.  The  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes, 
and  the  pride  of  life, — ihe  evil  spirit,  all  that  is 
meant  by  the  devil,  —  will  have  us,  and,  so  far  as 
depends  on  us,  will  have  our  children,  the  commu 
nity,  and  the  race.  Ignorance  and  crime,  heathen 
ism  at  home  and  abroad,  it  will  no  more  be  within 
our  ability  to  enlighten,  reclaim,  or  convert.  Man 
kind  will  be  abandoned  to  themselves,  losing  the 
channel,  and  so  losing  the  fountain,  of  the  waters  of 
life,  and  going  down,  hopeless  and  uncheered,  into 
the  valley  and  shadow  of  death.  So  baleful  a  con 
summation  may  God  and  our  own  souls  forbid,  by 
uniting  us  and  all  alive  to  the  one  body,  and  thus 
to  the  one  spirit,  of  Christ ! 


48 


DISCOURSE   III. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 
Matt.  xvi.  18.  —  UPON  THIS  ROCK  i  WILL  BUILD  MY  CHUECH,  AND 

THE  GATES  OF  HELL  SHALL  NOT  PBEVA1L  AGAINST  IT. 

HERE  is  proof  from  Christ's  own  lips,  that  he  came 
not  only  to  reveal  truth  from  heaven,  but  also  to 
establish  a  church  on  earth ;  or  that  his  object  was 
not  only  to  enlighten  individual  minds,  but  to  unite 
his  followers  in  affectionate  fellowship  together. 
This  proof  is  sustained  by  the  impression  which  his 
repeated  declarations  on  this  point  made  upon  the 
hearts  of  his  first  disciples,  and  by  the  influence 
which  his  spirit  exerted  in  actually  drawing  them 
into  one  company.  I  need  scarcely  refer  to  the 
striking  figures,  in  which,  by  him  or  among  them 
selves,  the  proper  intimacy  of  their  communion 
was  expressed ;  such  as  the  stones  joined  together 
closely  in  a  building,  the  branches  of  a  vine  flou 
rishing  into  common  fruitfulness  from  the  same 
root,  and  the  members  of  a  human  body  alive  in 
friendly  co-operation.  So  were  they  to  be  built  up 
and  grow  and  work  from  him,  in  unison  with  one 
another. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  49 

From  all  this  Scripture,  with  the  corresponding 
facts  of  the  gospel-history,  arises  not  only  the  prin 
ciple  and  justification  of  the  great  universal  church 
of  Christ,  now  stretching  through  earth  and  heaven, 
but  the  conclusion  that  as  Christians,  in  whatever 
particular  place  we  may  be,  in  evidence  of  our  real 
relation  to  Jesus,  of  our  possession  of  his  faith  and 
harmony  with  his  feeling,  we  must  form  a  church. 
We  must  not  be  a  mere  assemblage  of  individuals, 
gathered  and  scattered  loosely  like  the  sand,  but  a 
cemented  fabric.  We  must  not  be  like  sundered 
limbs  and  severed  boughs,  each  one  given  over  to 
himself,  but  vitally  bound  to  the  body  and  the  head, 
nourished  from  the  living  trunk,  with  one  temper, 
like  sap  running  through  the  tree  in  the  freshening 
season  of  spring,  or  like  flowing  blood  in  our  veins. 
So  far  as  this  is  not  true ;  so  far  as  we,  worshippers 
here,  are  cold  to  one  another,  distant  from  one 
another,  and  careless  of  one  another's  welfare ;  so 
far  we  are  none  of  Christ's,  belonging  not  to  that 
church  which  he  built  on  a  rock. 

It  is  often  said,  that  religion  addresses  the  soul 
in  its  pure  individuality ;  that  it  is  something  be 
tween  every  man  alone  and  his  Maker ;  that  hosts 
of  numbers  are  as  nothing,  and  no  company  is 
counted  in  the  relations  between  the  solitary  heart 
and  conscience  and  their  sole  original  Fashioner 
and  Inspirer.  It  is  true  that  Christ  speaks  to  us 
as  individuals.  More  than  any  other  teacher,  he 
makes  every  one  of  us  know  that  we  are  created 
5 


50  THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 

by  God,  immediately  connected  with  him,  per 
sonally  responsible  to  him,  and  open  to  the  secret 
warning  and  solicitation  of  his  spirit ;  that  we  can 
hide  from  him  in  no  crowd,  and  be  shielded  from  him 
by  no  interposition.  But,  with  equal  explicitness 
and  no  inconsistency,  he  teaches  that  those  who 
listen  to  his  voice  and  receive  his  lessons,  becoming 
like-minded  in  conscience  and  love,  will  be  a  band 
of  believers  and  associated  laborers  to  his  honor, 
for  their  own  and  all  men's  salvation.  It  was  as 
if  he  had  said,  "  Those  that  have  the  persuasions 
I  would  communicate,  and  the  affections  I  inspire, 
cannot  keep  apart.  Their  sympathy  in  the  same 
ideas,  duties,  and  hopes,  will  unavoidably  attract 
them  into  one  circle."  Indeed,  so  firm  did  he  hold 
to  this  proposition,  as  to  use  a  metaphor  at  first 
seeming  bold  to  audacity,  but  sure  at  last  to  be  veri 
fied,  —  that  against  the  church  he  would  thus  set 
up,  the  gates  of  hell,  all  the  powers  of  sin  and  Satan, 
should  not  prevail.  Sublime  and  touching  predic 
tion  !  which,  involving  the  truth  and  credibleness 
of  its  author,  should  lead  all,  to  whom  the  name  of 
Christ  sounds  venerable  and  dear,  to  pay  the  tribute 
of  their  regard  and  warm  adherence  to  the  church, 
which,  in  the  apostolic  words,  is  but  his  fulness  and 
body. 

Yet  let  no  one  think  to  do  this  in  any  patronizing 
way.  It  is  not  so  much  for  Christ's  sake,  to  help 
him,  as  for  our  own,  that  we  are  called  on  to  do  it. 
We  hear,  indeed,  persons,  in  a  quite  common  phrase, 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  51 

speak  of  supporting  Christianity.  Nay,  Chris 
tianity  supports  them !  It  is  not  so  much  by  our 
taking  hold  of  religion,  as  by  religion's  taking  hold 
of  us,  that  the  divine  intent  will  be  accomplished. 
Nor  need  we  have  any  anxiety  that  the  great  Leader 
will  not  triumphantly  make  good  his  own  word. 
For  see  in  what  glory  and  constancy  of  progress  his 
prediction  has  already  been  fulfilled !  The  church, 
on  whose  foundation  in  himself  he  began  to  build, 
with  as  it  were  but  a  single  stone  in  his  hand, 
has,  beyond  all  other  positive  institutions,  defied 
and  surmounted  the  powers  of  destruction.  Great 
changes  have  taken  place  since  Christ  ventured 
that  promise  to  a  poor  fisherman,  and  threw  out 
into  the  air  that  challenge  against  fate.  Many  old 
customs  have  decayed.  Whole  systems  of  religion 
and  philosophy  have  passed  away.  Famous  cities 
have  crumbled  in  the  dust,  and  wild  beasts  have 
roamed,  and  birds  of  prey  screamed  over  their 
ruins.  Races  of  men  have  been  dispersed,  or  are 
even  now,  in  their  last  remnants,  thinly  melting 
into  the  grave  which  this  earth  has  for  nations  as 
rell  as  individuals.  Yea,  shores  and  seas  have 
>egun  to  shift  their  places,  and  everlasting  hills 
lave  bowed  their  heads,  since  Jesus  spoke  to  Peter 
m  those  now-forlorn  coasts  of  Cesarea.  But  the 
jates  of  hell  have  not  prevailed  against  his  church. 
[t  has  not  only  survived  unhurt,  as  the  promise 
implies,  but  has  flourished  and  increased  without 
decline ;  and,  under  various  names,  but  with  open 


52  THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 

doors,  still  invites  the  sons  of  men,  at  once  to  the 
shelter  of  its  walls,  and  through  the  openings  of  its 
aisles  into  paths  of  endless  advancement. 

But,  though  we  are  not,  within  the  church,  con 
templated  as  mere  individuals,  this  its  invitation 
comes  to  every  one  by  himself.  Do  we  accept  it? 
We  cannot  outwardly  and  visibly  enter  the  whole 
church.  It  spreads  round  the  globe.  It  reaches 
through  ages.  Almost  the  whole  of  it  is  invisible. 
The  greater  part  of  it  is  in  the  skies.  But,  as  a 
huge  army,  stretching  out  of  sight  over  the  plain, 
is  all  near  to  one  that  joins  it  at  a  single  point ;  so 
the  church  of  Christ,  in  the  fulness  of  its  influence, 
is  nigh  to  us  in  every  little  space  where  his  temple 
is  open,  and  his  table  furnished.  As  by  a  natural 
law  the  entire  sphere  of  matter  presses  on  every 
point,  so  the  whole  church  of  Christ  is  present  and 
felt  in  its  power  wherever  his  friends  meet  to  wor 
ship  in  his  name,  to  partake  the  old  memorials  of 
his  sufferings,  and  ever-fresh  tokens  of  that  love 
of  his  which  died  not  with  his  expiring  frame,  but 
is  still  warm  for  all  who  will  accept  and  return  it. 

The  question  is  a  serious  one,  and  must  have  oc 
curred  to  all  thoughtful  and  religious  persons,  "  Are 
we  of  the  church  of  Christ  ?  "  To  help  you  to  con 
sider  or  solve  this  question,  I  have  to  offer  no  logical 
definitions,  no  curious  tests,  no  rigid  articles  of  any 
private  or  sectarian  creed  of  church-membership. 
Be  the  principles  of  the  decision  as  large  and  liberal 
as  our  reason,  in  all  its  length  and  breadth,  can  lay 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  53 

down,  or  as  our  freedom,  in  all  the  honest  extent  of 
its  motion,  may  demand.  The  soul  which,  won 
by  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of  Christ's  character, 
stirred  by  his  purity,  and  inflamed  with  the  holy 
fire  of  his  self-sacrifice,  flows  into  cordial  agreement 
with  all  other  trustful  souls  about  it,  so  likewise 
attracted  and  kindled ;  the  soul  that  is  willing  with 
them  to  celebrate  and  carry  out  its  reverence  and 
love  for  the  common  Lord  in  every  evangelical  and 
Christian  way,  according  to  its  fair  understanding 
of  his  design,  is  a  member  of  Christ's  real  church. 

In  this  broad  allowance  of  liberty,  there  is  no 
license,  but  a  holy  severity  greater  than  in  any 
dogmatic  interpretation  or  ecclesiastic  imposition. 
It  gives  inevitable  point  to  the  inquiry,  "  Do  we  so 
flow  and  so  proceed  together  ?  "  Are  we  a  church,  or 
but  a  congregation  ?  Is  this  building  rightly  deno 
minated  a  church,  or  only  a  meeting-house  ?  Par 
don  the  fear  that  such  questioning  touches  our 
special  weakness  and  danger.  There  is  among  us 
a  tendency  to  err  in  regarding  our  religion  simply 
as  a  scheme  of  doctrine  and  a  system  of  morality, 
according  to  which  every  one  is  to  go  and  do  certain 
independent  works,  and  offer  them  to  the  smile  of 
God's  approval ;  hoping  that,  in  his  wise  and  good 
decision,  he  will  call  them  virtue,  the  one  only  thing 
needful,  and  stamp  on  them  the  title  of  admission 
to  heaven.  Ah,  my  friends !  we  can  go  to  heaven 
in  no  such  solitary,  unsympathizing  way,  apart 
from  our  kind.  Heaven  is  not  a  country  whose 
5* 


54 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 


direction  the  single  traveller  can  find,  or  a  shore 
the  lonely  navigator  can  reach.  The  strongest  are 
too  feeble,  and  the  wisest  lack  sagacity,  for  an 
unaided  achievement  like  that.  The  very  road  to 
heaven  lies  through  one  another's  hearts.  There  is 
no  path  beside.  The  very  outset  and  course  we 
must  take  is  that  mutual  communion  which  is 
hardly  less  essential  either  to  virtue  or  joy  than  our 
communion  with  God.  So  the  going  to  heaven 
is  well  represented  in  the  inspirations  of  sacred 
poetry  as  a  jubilant  march,  not  a  painful  plodding, 
and  perchance  straggling  out  of  the  way. 


"  One  army  of  the  living  God, 
To  his  command  we  bow  : 
Part  of  the  host  have  crossed  the  flood, 
And  part  are  crossing  now." 


The  central  principle  of  Christianity  is  not  strictly 
a  moral,  but  a  spiritual,  principle  of  love ;  and  there 
is,  in  the  teaching  and  institution  of  Christ  embo 
dying  this  principle,  a  dignity  which  has  in  its  favor 
the  verdict  of  all  good  sense  and  philosophy,  of  all 
knowledge  of  man  or  God.  The  love  of  God, 
which  is  the  first  spark  of  all  religion  and  excel 
lence,  kindles  the  love  of  man,  and  touches  philan 
thropy  with  its  own  holiness.  Then  out  of  this 
human  love,  thus  quickened  and  sanctified,  issues, 
in  its  best  and  finest  quality,  all  morality,  all  lowli 
ness,  generosity,  charity,  justice,  and  truth.  The 
church  of  Christ  is  the  hearthstone  on  which  these 


THE    CHURCH    OP    CHRIST.  55 

fires  of  divine  and  human  affection  are  lighted. 
The  services  and  ordinances  of  the  gospel  are  the 
fuel  with  which  these  fires  are  fed.  God's  children 
and  Christ's  disciples,  well  called  a  flock,  gather 
around  the  sacred  flame  for  warmth  and  illumina 
tion,  and  bear  away  their  burning  lamps  and  ardent 
hearts  into  all  the  coldness  and  darkness  of  the  world, 
to  fill  it  with  saving  beams  of  lustre  and  heat. 

This  is  the  order  and  method  of  Christian  re 
demption.  It  is  not  a  melancholy  handling  of  our 
own  wounded  hearts,  but  bringing  our  hearts  into 
the  fellowship  of  those  who  go  to  Christ  to  be 
healed  of  deeper  diseases  than  he  cured  in  the 
plains  and  cities  of  Judea,  and  along  the  shores  of 
Galilee.  Our  own  righteousness  is  not,  as  is  some 
times  said,  the  centre  and  beginning  of  religion,  but 
the  product  and  end  of  religion.  That  Christian 
love,  of  which  the  Christian  church  is  the  symbol 
and  vessel,  is  the  root  of  righteousness,  through 
all  the  variety  and  extent  of  human  worth.  Very 
poor  and  small  is  that  virtue  which  is  not  founded 
in  love.  As,  we  are  told,  the  towering  verdure  of 
some  great  tree,  which  we  admire,  is  owing  to 
springs  of  water  near  by,  under  its  roots ;  so  all  that 
is  grand  in  character  must  be  nurtured  out  of  those 
deep  and  sweet  fountains  of  the  affections,  of  which 
some  men  are  weak  enough  to  be  ashamed,  though 
they  are  both  manhood's  and  womanhood's  glory, 
as  they  are  both  the  gladness  and  the  purification  of 
the  world.  The  virtue  that  depends  alone  on  the 


56  THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 

will  and  weak  purpose  of  human  ability,  is  apt  to 
grow  dry  and  remain  slender,  like  stalks  in  the  fall 
of  the  year,  mid  the  meagre  supplies  of  an  arid  and 
sandy  soil,  and,  beneath  great  pressure  of  the  wind 
and  flood  of  temptation,  to  be  uprooted,  or  break 
helplessly  and  fatally  down,  and  be  borne  perishing 
miserably  away. 

Let  us,  then,  lean  not  on  our  own  arm,  but  toge 
ther  on  the  arm  of  God,  stretched  out  in  his  Son. 
Let  us  meet,  not  as  a  congregation  of  private  in 
quirers  and  individual  worshippers  alone,  but  as  a 
church  of  united  spirits  and  co-working  hands.  Let 
us  come  not  looking  to  one  of  our  number  called 
a  minister,  preacher,  or  pastor,  expecting  him,  with 
the  breath  of  his  mouth,  to  build  up  the  entire  body ; 
and,  with  more  than  an  angel's  miraculous  endow 
ment,  to  touch  continually  the  thousand  places  need 
ing  counsel  and  comfort,  from  infancy  to  old  age. 
But  let  us  strive  always  to  foster  in  each  other 
every  principle  of  religion,  and  to  bring  into  both 
the  beauty  of  flower  and  the  richness  of  fruit,  every 
seed  of  goodness.  Let  us  not  spend  our  time  in 
complaining  of  what  we  may  think  icy  and  depress 
ing  in  the  social  and  religious  circumstances  around 
us.  It  our  business,  with  warm  and  gentle  breath 
ing,  to  melt  the  frost,  and  improve  the  common  lot 
where  we  are  placed.  How  much  can  be  done  by 
those,  though  not  many,  who  are  animated  with 
this  holy  zeal !  By  a  few  noble  and  disinterested 
toilers  has  many  a  ship  on  the  high  seas,  with  all 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  57 

her  crew  and  company,  been  kept  from  sinking. 
It  is  an  object  indeed  of  zeal  to  move  on  prosper 
ously  over  the  tide  of  time,  that  Christian  religion, 
which,  at  the  same  time,  like  a  noble  vessel,  bears 
us  to  the  eternal  haven ;  and,  beyond  every  thing 
else  ever  sent  into  this  world,  takes  men  out  of  all 
their  diversities  of  condition  and  fortune  and  edu 
cation,  of  natural  genius  and  disposition,  into  one 
accordant  blessed  fellowship,  to  have  one  Lord,  one 
faith,  one  baptism,  one  God  and  Father  of  all.  The 
full  benediction  of  this  one  and  universal  bond  at 
tends  on  that  real  and  visible  entering  into  Christ's 
church,  which,  for  every  sincere  soul,  is  a  step  of  ad 
vance  in  whatever  is  right  and  pure  and  heavenly. 

The  church  of  Christ !  It  has  been  with  some 
a  word  of  scoffing  and  reproach.  It  has  had  its 
ages  of  partial  corruption  and  apparent  decline.  It 
has  contracted  occasional  unavoidable  stains  in 
travelling  through  this  violent  and  bloody  world. 
Hypocrisy  has  sometimes  nestled  at  its  altar,  and 
honesty  refused  to  go  in  at  its  door.  But,  under  an 
open-eyed,  unwinking  survey  of  all  its  character 
and  history,  it  still  stands  forth  the  noblest  society 
ever  formed  on  earth.  No  human  association  dares 
provoke  comparison  with  it,  for  the  generosity  of 
its  spirit,  or  the  magnitude  and  multitude  of  its 
benefits.  Over  this  warring  and  licentious  globe, 
it  has  trod,  as  a  holy  phalanx,  for  eighteen  centu 
ries  ;  and,  in  the  worst  times,  shed  some  healing 
and  refining  influence  on  the  human  mind.  Low 


58 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 


as  the  world  may  have  sunk,  it  has  never  been 
utterly  dragged  down  with,  but  always  been  above, 
the  world,  and  raised  the  world  above  itself.  By  no 
other  band  or  fellowship,  by  no  tribe  or  people,  or 
princely  line,  in  whatever  is  great  and  deserving, 
has  it  been  equalled.  It  has  transferred  from  itself 
to  the  very  enclosures  in  which  it  has  assembled, 
an  honor  without  parallel  in  any  other  structures  in 
the  world.  Nay,  nothing  in  nature  herself,  in  all 
her  vastness  and  beauty,  is  so  exalting  to  the  mind 
as  the  little  space  that  is  filled  with  Christian  com 
munion.  Much  has  been  said  of  the  sanctuary  of 
nature,  and  it  has  been  written  that  the  groves 
were  God's  first  temples.  But,  when  the  air  is  soft, 
and  the  light  is  pleasant,  —  when  the  boundless 
arch  is  above,  and  the  matchless  horizon  around  us, 
we  go  into  the  church  ;  and  in  its  little  room,  occu 
pied  to  the  soul  with  the  noblest  associations  of 
history,  or  with  its  atmosphere  trembling  at  the 
tones  of  song  and  prayer,  we  find  more  than  in 
the  infinite  space.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  art,  that, 
by  a  divine  inspiration,  there  may  be  a  choicer 
beauty  on  a  narrow  strip  of  canvas  than  in  broad 
regions  of  earth  and  sky.  So,  by  the  indwelling  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  does  the  church  exceed  the  natural 
splendor  of  the  world.  It  is  founded  on  a  rock. 
The  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it ;  and 
opening  soon,  as  it  does,  into  celestial  mansions, 
we  shall  find  both  safety  and  direction  through  the 
world  by  meantime  abiding  within  its  walls. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  59 

But  this  permanence  of  the  church,  predicted  in 
Christ's  words,  is  not  confined  to  the  present  state : 
its  prevailing  against  the  powers  of  destruction  is 
an  immortal  prevalence.  Many,  even  among  those 
who  would  appear  to  think  most  highly  of  the 
church,  seem  to  consider  it  simply  as  a  temporary 
means  for  training  up  successive  mortal  generations 
in  the  rudiments  of  faith  and  worship.  When  it  is 
regarded  as  consisting  purely  in  externals,  it  must 
have  an  aspect  as  perishable  as  it  is  material ;  and 
no  awful  sacredness  ascribed  to  its  forms  or  vessels 
can  save  it.  But,  when  its  nerve  and  strength  are 
seen  in  the  spiritual  ties  running  underneath  this 
outward  frame  of  visible  stature  and  motion,  then 
it  starts  up  from  the  dust  into  which  all  earthly 
magnificence  crumbles ;  it  towers  out  of  the  valley 
of  death,  and  stands  fresh  and  new,  as  the  spirits  it 
embraces,  on  the  eternal  shore. 

This  view  of  the  church  is  essential  to  a  just 
notion  of  our  immortality.  Two  ideas,  of  future 
advance  as  of  present  improvement,  struggle  to 
gether  in  the  same,  or  are  opposed  to  each  other  by 
different  minds.  The  first  idea  is  of  individual 

owth  and  development  for  ever;  the  second  is 
of  an  unfolding  in  fellowship  of  social  sympathy 
and  power.  The  first  idea  certainly  has  its  gran 
deur.  The  single  mind,  studying  by  itself  the 
works  and  ways  of  the  Creator,  meditating  on 
all  their  beauty  and  wisdom,  till  lyric  strains  of 
holy  rapture  and  blessed  thanks  burst  from  its 


60  THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 

conscious  depths ;  then,  soaring  ever  to  new  heights 
for  the  thrilling  pleasures  of  private  discovery,  and 
flying  into  the  far  profound  of  the  universe,  fur 
nished  with  wings  to  beat  secure  its  lonely  \vay 
along  the  coasts  of  all  the  attractions  of  space, 
and  return  laden  with  its  own  riches  to  its  ever 
larger  hive,  and  even,  in  its  immense  expansion 
of  strength  and  knowledge,  to  become  almost  a 
companion  for  God  himself,  or  to  converse  only, 
like  a  prince  of  intellect  and  science  on  earth,  with 
some  rare  equal  in  genius  and  attainment,  —  this 
idea  of  the  heavenly  futurity  is  lofty,  and  doubtless, 
to  some,  may  have  a  peculiar  charm.  But  truer  to 
the  divine  word  and  to  the  human  heart  is  the  other 
idea  which  represents  heaven,  not  as  a  hermitage, 
but  as  a  house ;  and  its  inhabitants,  not  as  indepen 
dent  occupants,  but  as  a  company  united  in  all  affec 
tionate  intercourse,  dwelling  in  the  brotherly  and 
sisterly  amity  which  cherubim  and  seraphim  sym 
bolize  ;  or  going  forth  happy,  harmonious  bands  in 
their  wayfaring;  or  circling  in  choral  troops  of  praise 
and  gladness,  twining  their  voices,  movements,  and 
faculties  in  a  unison  which  is  no  constraint,  but 
perfect  freedom ;  in  short,  raised  to  its  fulness  and 
accomplished  in  its  refinement,  a  church.  As  the 
wild  savage  or  the  recluse  sage  can  never  here 
below  reach  that  completeness  of  human  nature 
which  is  found  in  civilized  life,  so  no  retirement  in 
heaven  could  present  such  opportunity  of  progress 
and  happiness  as  will  be  offered  in  its  upper  man- 


THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST.  61 

sions.  The  thought  which,  more  perhaps  than  any 
other,  has  haunted  philosophy  in  all  ages,  is  that  of 
a  perfect  society.  No  conception  is  so  transporting 
as  that  of  the  capacity  for  enjoyment  from  all  that 
is  great  and  wise  and  good  in  a  social  state.  The 
accomplishment  is  not  here,  but  there  where  every 
good  beginning  shall  be  fulfilled.  It  is  what  now 
exists  only  in  germ  and  prophecy.  It  is  Christ's 
church. 

But  it  is  the  church  of  Christ,  as  it  is  on  earth, 
with  which  we  have  now  to  do.  Let  us  count  it 
our  religious  security,  and  glory  to  be  in  it  and  of  it. 
Let  us  not  regard  it  with  the  absurd  misconception 
of  those  to  whom  it  is  but  an  aggregate  of  indivi 
duals,  an  assembly  in  joining  which  each  one  adds 
but  another  unit.  For  it  has  a  power  of  its  own, 
circulating  through  all  its  living  organization,  by 
which  all  its  parts  are  transformed  and  uplifted  into 
new  sanctity  and  strength  for  action  ;  through 
whose  divine  channels  both  the  benevolence  and 
devotion  of  the  private  heart  are  redoubled  and 
ever  sustained.  As  the  soldier  in  an  army  derives 
half  his  spirit  and  courage  from  his  comrades,  and 
loses  heart  and  hope  when  the  ranks  are  in  any 
way  cut  off  or  divided ;  as  the  citizen  of  a  commu 
nity  has  a  vigor  and  happiness  and  inspiration  to 
effort,  unknown  to  the  alien  or  the  exile,  though  of 
equal  native  force ;  as  the  laborer  works  with  new 
zeal  and  less  exhaustion  for  hearing  the  sound  of  a 
spade  or  hammer,  or  the  song  of  others  conspiring 
6 


62  THE    CHURCH    OF    CHRIST. 

at  his  side ;  so  the  member  of  Christ's  church  draws 
from  his  companionship  an  ability  finer  and  more 
constant,  as  it  is  more  pure  and  spiritual,  than  can 
flow  through  martial  music,  or  be  wafted  by  the 
banners  of  an  host ;  than  can  be  expressed  in  en 
terprises  of  state  and  achievements  of  patriotism, 
or  accumulated  and  kept  in  motion  for  all  the  toil 
and  business  of  this  world.  The  individual  is  not 
absorbed  in  the  church,  and  does  not  remain  as  he 
was,  but  is  ennobled,  warmed  with  a  sacred  fire  of 
common  enthusiasm,  and  impelled  by  new  and 
more  urgent  motives  to  the  service  of  God  and  the 
salvation  of  man.  The  body  he  belongs  to,  beyond 
earthly  banding,  is  a  sacramental  host,  a  celestial 
estate,  and  a  company  of  laborers  together  with 
God.  What  other  relationship  could  be  equal  in 
the  honor  it  confers,  the  confidence  it  nourishes, 
or  the  duration  through  which  it  shall  last ! 


63 


DISCOURSE   IV. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

Matt.  xii.  9.  —  HE  AVENT  IXTO  THEIU  SYNAGOGUE. 
Eph.  iiL  21. — TO  HIM  BE  GLOIIY  ix  THE  CHUKCH. 

THERE  may  appear  something  strange  and  conflict 
ing  in  the  relations  of  Christ  to  the  synagogue  and 
church.  He  frequented  the  synagogue,  taught  in 
the  synagogue,  listened  to  the  doctrine  and  joined 
in  the  praise  of  the  synagogue,  and  availed  himself 
of  the  public  religious  opportunities  of  the  syna 
gogue  to  lay  the  foundation  of  his  church.  Yet  it 
somewhat  shocks  our  associations  thus  to  bring 
together  these  two,  the  synagogue  and  the  church  ; 
the  synagogue  that  persecuted  Jesus  to  the  death, 
and  the  church  that  was  to  enshrine  his  name  in 
everlasting  honor;  the  synagogue  that  arraigned, 
imprisoned,  and  slew  his  disciples,  and  the  church, 
the  glorious  monument  of  their  labor  and  self-sac 
rifice;  the  synagogue,  repository  of  narrow  preju 
dice  and  source  of  bigoted  zeal,  and  the  church, 
channel  of  the  noblest  sentiments  and  largest  prin 
ciples  ever  published  on  earth. 


64      THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

With  all  these  contrasts,  however,  there  is  one 
point  in  which  the  church  and  synagogue  meet, 
as  being  both  social  instruments  for  the  establish 
ment  of  religion ;  and  both  illustrating  the  depen 
dence  of  religion  upon  social  feeling  for  its  local 
maintenance  and  universal  diffusion.  The  mean 
ing  of  the  word  synagogue,  and  of  the  word  trans 
lated  church,  is  essentially  the  same,  —  the  gathering 
or  calling  together  of  persons  agreeing  with  each 
other.  First  the  synagogue,  then  the  church,  was 
the  power  God  used  to  unite  men,  and  raise  them 
to  himself.  We  are  acquainted  with  but  two  great 
revelations,  the  Jewish  and  the  Christian.  It  is 
remarkable  that,  in  the  one  and  the  other  alike,  the 
doctrine  and  law  made  known  from  on  high  were 
entrusted,  for  their  preservation  and  efficiency,  not 
to  an  abstraction  or  oral  tradition,  not  alone  to 
learning,  eloquence,  book,  or  discourse,  but  to  an 
organization  and  society. 

Witnessing,  in  this  city,  the  recent  dedication  of 
a  Jewish  synagogue,  impressed  on  my  mind  this 
common  lesson  of  the  synagogue  and  the  church. 
When  I  saw  the  sacred  scrolls  of  the  Pentateuch 
of  Moses  —  which,  often  transcribed,  had  travelled 
down  from  time  immemorial  —  brought  so  solemnly 
into  their  sanctuary  by  a  band  of  Israelites,  with 
that  attendant  voice  of  human  unison  in  divine 
thanksgiving,  which  most  of  all  things  touches  the 
heart ;  and  beheld  the  several  fac-simile  copies  made 
to  guard  against  possible  error,  borne  slowly  about 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.      65 

seven  times,  circling  with  the  seven-fold  chanting  of 
the  ancient  psalms  of  Judea,  in  the  peculiarly  sweet 
tones  of  the  harmonious  choir;  and  then  the  reve 
rential  deposit  of  the  decorated  rolls,  before  the  face 
of  the  congregation,  in  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  with 
the  accompanying  prayers  to  which  the  Amen  of 
the  people,  like  a  musical  wind,  swept  through  the 
little  room,  and  wafted  up  the  many  silent  beating 
hearts  towards  heaven ;  —  I  felt  that  the  despised 
and  dispersed  children  of  Abraham,  by  their  concord, 
though  a  mere  handful,  under  such  cruel  disadvan 
tages  and  burdens,  might  yet  teach  a  lesson  to  not 
a  few  of  those  recorded  in  our  ecclesiastical  regi 
sters,  and  calling  themselves  followers  of  the  Son 
of  God. 

The  silver  bells,  that  tinkled  over  the  adorned 
parchment,  seemed  to  echo  the  meaning  of  those 
golden  ones  in  the  times  of  the  Hebrew  glory 
wrought  on  the  priestly  robes.  The  scarfs,  that 
hung  on  the  shoulders  carrying  the  holy  vessels, 
appeared  as  it  were  the  faded  remnants  of  the  gar 
ments,  splendid  with  costly  stones,  once  worn  by 
the  sons  of  Aaron.  The  little  vase,  lighted  beside 
the  consecrated  place  with  a  perpetual  flame,  never 
day  or  night  thenceforward  to  be  suffered  to  go 
out,  looked  like  the  residue  of  precious  lamps  and 
shining  censors.  The  so  slight,  diminished  band 
of  devotees,  beyond  documents  and  manuscripts 
that  scholars  pore  over,  walked  in  living  testimony 
of  the  ancient  union.  The  faith  of  Abraham,  piety 
G* 


66       THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

of  Isaac,  and  sagacity  of  Jacob,  stood  on  visible 
features  of  flesh  and  blood.  All  the  forms  handed 
down  through  ages,  for  links  to  bind  one  soul  with 
another  in  the  service  of  a  common  Maker,  bespoke 
the  value  of  man's  sympathy  with  his  brother-man, 
to  preserve  and  defend  for  ever  against  waste  and 
extinction  the  disclosed  truths  of  religion. 

Thus  may  I  not  say  the  Jew  has  a  lesson  for  the 
Christian,  and  the  synagogue  for  the  church  ? 
Consider  the  immense  importance,  to  all  the  world 
indeed,  of  that  synagogue.  What  had  kept  the 
saving  ideas  of  a  divine  original  inspiration,  flow 
ing  a  sacred  river  far  back  out  of  undiscovered 
sources  in  a  hoar  antiquity,  from  sinking  into  for- 
getfulness  amid  the  sandy  wastes  of  time  ?  It  was 
not  merely  the  record  of  them  on  paper  and  stone. 
That  Egyptian  paper  would  crumble;,  and  the 
tables,  soon  broken  beneath  the  Mount,  be  at  last 
reduced  to  powder.  But,  as  a  literary  or  religious 
association  survives  out  of  the  burnt  and  blackened 
ruins  of  the  building  in  which  it  has  met,  so, 
beyond  engraving  or  inscription,  a  social  power 
redeemed  the  heavenly  instructions  and  commands 
from  the  whelming  oblivion.  It  was  meeting  to 
gether,  first  in  the  open  air,  next  in  the  houses  of 
the  prophets,  then,  for  a  better  accommodation,  in 
the  synagogue,  planted  commonly  in  some  pic 
turesque  situation,  that  appropriated  to  the  bosom 
of  the  race  the  words  of  its  Lawgiver.  The  life, 
the  spiritual  substance  of  the  people,  was  received 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.       67 

and  embodied,  brought  to  a  head  of  immediate 
influence,  and  conducted  in  a  perennial  stream,  by 
the  synagogue. 

Whence  and  wherefore,  to  make  our  melody 
with,  have  we  now  those  sublime  psalms,  sung,  not 
here  and  there  alone  by  scattered  Israelites,  crouch 
ing,  almost  unseen,  in  Rome  and  London,  in  Am 
sterdam  and  New  York  ;  but  by  vast  bodies  of 
Christian  believers,  from  the  shores  washed  by  the 
Indian  Ocean  to  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  Seas  ? 
As  the  great  poems  and  tragedies,  now  the  delight 
of  the  world,  were  composed  to  be  publicly  recited 
or  enacted  ;  so  they  were  written,  not  simply  for  a 
solitary  harp  or  a  midnight  orison,  but  for  the  syna 
gogue  and  the  temple.  How  did  that  grand  doctrine, 
which  is  the  crown  of  our  rejoicing,  of  the  unity  of 
God,  first  declared  to  his  chosen  people,  stand 
against  the  tide  of  polytheism  and  idolatry,  for  long 
thousands  of  years,  till,  like  the  ark  across  the  de 
luge,  it  reached  safely  the  time  when  it  should  be 
re-affirmed  for  ever,  through  all  generations,  by 
Jesus  Christ  ?  It  was  clasped  to  the  breast  of  the 
nation  by  this  mighty  sympathetic  power  of  the 
synagogue,  and  the  Sanhedrim  or  great  synagogue, 
with  all  the  ceremonies  and  festivals  that  drew  the 
various  tribes  of  Canaan  together.  What  but  this 
same  social  energy  of  affection,  giving  life  to  re 
ligion  after  the  lapse  of  fifty  centuries,  crossed  the 
Atlantic,  and,  at  the  diameter  of  the  earth,  distant 
from  its  first  seat,  has  summoned  together  among 


68       THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

us  the  scanty  members  of  a  nation  still  vital  and  in 
dissoluble  ;  while  the  roving,  disconnected  savages, 
that  once  possessed  this  whole  continent,  are  almost 
without  an  epitaph,  fading  away  ?  Truly,  the  syna 
gogue  in  a  grove  of  Judea,  or  by  a  stream  of  Gali 
lee,  was  the  parent  of  synagogues  in  a  world  far 
off,  and  then  unknown  ! 

There  is  something  fine  and  admirable  even  in 
the  humble  circumstances  of  such  a  spectacle.  The 
courageous  and  cheerful  rearing,  upon  a  close  street 
in  a  low  quarter  of  the  city,  of  that  small  syna 
gogue,  to  be  overshadowed  by  the  steeples  and 
towers  of  a  hundred  Christian  edifices,  with  their 
belfries'  clang  about  its  mute,  narrow  dome,  that  a 
few  might  worship  the  God  of  their  fathers  in  the 
way  of  their  fathers,  prompts  the  question  whether 
we,  with  the  sum  and  sceptre  of  social  power  in 
our  hands,  employ  it  to  deepen  and  extend  our 
religion  with  an  earnestness  like  theirs,  and  results 
proportioned  to  our  means.  Avoiding  the  vices  of 
the  synagogue,  the  pride  and  hatred  and  spiritual 
conceit  that  grew  up  within  its  old  limits  in  Pales 
tine,  have  we,  in  the  Christian  church,  its  virtues  of 
religious  faith  and  cordial  sympathy  ?  Do  we,  by 
all  means,  enliven  such  faith  and  sympathy  by  re 
spect  for  the  holy  rites,  and  by  sincere  performance 
of  the  appointed  ordinances,  which  Christ  made 
part  of  his  gospel,  —  by  regard  for  the  book  of  the 
Lord,  and  observance  of  those  hallowed  times  and 
places,  the  special  conductors  of  his  spirit,  itself 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.       69 

unbounded,  into  the  infirmity  of  our  nature,  and 
the  sinful  worldliness  of  our  hearts  ?  Such  is  the 
question  which  the  grave  order  of  that  Hebrew 
dedication  presents,  and  the  loud  strain  of  its  an 
thems  pours  into  our  ears.  Have  we,  too,  proved 
what  affection  and  honor  for  one  another,  in  the 
faitli  and  veneration  of  God,  can  do  to  sink  his 
word  into  our  convictions,  and  exemplify  it  in  our 
lives  ?  Or,  idle  in  our  full  prosperity  and  easy  pre 
dominance  over  all  Pagan  and  Jewish  modes,  do 
we  sit,  careless  of  each  other,  with  our  children 
drawn  hither  and  thither  by  curiosity  or  rumor,  as 
though  it  were  some  trump  of  fame  we  were  lis 
tening  for,  and  not  the  everlasting  gospel  of  God  ? 
Let  the  manner  of  our  own  coming  in  and  going 
out,  and  the  measure  of  our  concern  for  the  general 
good,  answer. 

Will  it  be  said  these  days  of  freedom,  and  of 
doing  as  we  and  our  children  please,  are  better  than 
the  former  days ;  and  it  is  unworthy  to  go  back,  for 
a  theme  of  exhortation,  to  half-obsolete  customs, 
that  flourished  in  by-gone  times ;  as  though  a 
Christian,  in  his  church,  could  learn  aught  from 
a  synagogue  and  a  Jew!  But  let  us  not  forget  the 
rock  from  which  we  were  hewn,  the  root  from  which 
we  have  grown,  and  the  olive-tree  into  which,  by 
favor,  we  were  grafted.  Let  not  the  Anglo-Saxon, 
for  shame,  forget  his  obligations  to  the  Hebrew. 
Let  him  not  forget  of  whom,  according  to  the  flesh, 
of  the  house  of  David,  of  the  seed  of  Judah,  his 


70       THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

Saviour  was  born.  Let  him  not  forget  his  own  so 
long-descended  heritage,  from  the  appearance  in 
the  flame  of  Horeb,  and  from  the  commandments 
that  rolled  in  the  thunders,  and  were  cut  by  the 
lightnings  of  Sinai. 

We  may  be  proud  of  our  modern  inventions  and 
discoveries.  We  may  boast  our  art  and  science. 
We  may  tell  what  we  can  do  with  our  press  and 
compass,  with  our  looms  and  engines,  with  our  iron 
rail  and  electric  wire.  Nevertheless,  those  old  He 
brews,  now  vagabond  and  scorned,  are  our  spiritual 
progenitors.  In  the  name  of  God,  they  claim  our 
filial  debt  of  religious  gratitude.  Though  now,  like 
thin  hordes  of  Arabs  in  the  desert,  they  wander  in 
fancy  through  the  magnificent  space  of  their  ancient 
history;  we,  and  all  the  dwellers  in  Christendom, 
walk  with  them  over  a  common  ground  of  annals, 
unequalled  odes,  and  exalted  prophecies.  We  are 
inextricably  united  with  them,  for  time  and  eternity, 
though  so  broadly  separated,  too,  by  the  new  in 
structions  of  a  greater  Teacher  than  they  ever 
acknowledged.  Truly  the  by-word  and  hissing  for 
the  Jew  has  been  carried  farther  than  has  been  good 
for  the  Christian.  They  can  teach  us,  that  the 
social  power,  by  which,  through  the  synagogue, 
they  have  so  widely  inoculated  mankind  with  their 
sublime  persuasions  of  the  oneness  and  justice  of 
God,  must  be  more  firmly  relied  on,  and  more  vigo 
rously  wielded,  to  instil  the  additional  lessons  of 
our  Divine  Master. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.      71 

So  whispers  the  synagogue  to  the  church.  Such 
was  the  information  conveyed  to  my  ear  from  the 
lips  of  yonder  preacher  and  choristers,  as  the  He 
brew  and  English  tongues  alternated  in  the  voice 
of  their  prayer  and  praise.  Such  is  the  message 
of  Providence  I  report  to  you.  Nor  let  us,  in  any 
arrogance  of  birth  or  belief,  disdain  to  learn  from  a 
Jew.  "  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes,  senses,  affections, 
passions?"  —  yes,  and  experience  too;  by  which, 
while  discarding  his  errors,  we  may  wisely  profit  in 
our  endeavors  to  let  our  light  shine,  and  to  propa 
gate  our  faith.  By  his  example  we  may  be  led 
not  to  trust  our  individual  judgments,  and  rest  on 
our  independent  wills  alone,  indolently  shouting, 
"  Truth  is  mighty,  and  will  prevail ; "  but  to  avail 
ourselves  of  the  same  social  united  force  to  illumi 
nate  and  warm  the  world  with  the  beams  of  mercy 
from  Calvary  and  the  Mount  of  Olives,  as  well 
as  with  the  fire  that  came  down  the  awful  summits 
of  Arabia. 

Compared  with  the  synagogue,  the  church  is, 
in  its  methods,  spare  and  spiritual.  As  though 
its  Author  would  provide  against  all  supersti 
tion  and  formality,  it  originally  received  from  him 
the  least  of  outward  ritual  that  would  suffice  to 
clothe  it.  In  our  own  view  and  practice,  it  has 
no  excess,  beyond  that  Author's  mind,  of  symbol 
and  form.  All  the  more  must  we  take  care  that 
the  tics  it  offers  to  pass  through  our  hearts  be  not 
neglected.  If  ours  be  a  dead  or  loose  and  languish- 


72       THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

ing  church,  as  public  worshippers  we  must  decline. 
Count  ourselves,  as  we  fondly  may,  in  the  most 
enlightened  fellowship  of  believers,  yet  must  we 
mournfully  die,  not  for  refusing  to  be  a  sect,  but 
for  refusing  to  be  of  Christ's  church ;  and  over  our 
grave  a  less  elevated,  less  rational  understanding  of 
religion  will  rise,  with  unscriptural  pomp,  to  usurp 
the  post  given  for  our  loyalty  to  maintain,  but  by  our 
infidelity  betrayed.  If  our  liberality  run  into  license, 
the  salt  losing  its  savor,  worldliness  and  unbelief 
will  creep  into  our  temples  and  into  the  schools  of 
piety  and  knowledge  which  our  fathers  bequeathed; 
and  their  inscription,  "  To  Christ  and  the  Church," 
from  the  marble  where  they  printed  it,  have  to  be 
erased. 

If  we,  in  this  spot,  are  indifferent,  our  heart  not 
enlisted,  nor  our  hand  engaged  for  the  common 
good,  our  mind  not  directed  to  perceive  in  mutual 
cordiality  a  soil  for  the  growth  of  personal  character 
and  of  the  joy  of  public  devotion,  then  let  even  the 
old  synagogue  plead  with  us,  and,  by  what  amid 
faults  was  faithful  in  its  work,  warn  us  against 
being  recreant  in  ours.  We  may  hold  the  Jew 
hostile  to  us,  yet,  according  to  a  wise  proverb,  "  It 
is  lawful  to  be  instructed  by  an  enemy."  Let  the 
policy  of  his  institutions,  firm  through  all  the  out 
lawries  and  wrongs  he  has  suffered,  convince  us  of 
the  value  and  need  of  religious  union.  Let  it  be  a 
demonstration,  that  we  can  set  on  foot,  and,  by  our 
constant  and  punctual  interest,  encourage  no  co- 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.       73 

operation  for  generous,  social  ends,  be  it  a  Sunday- 
school  or  a  Bible-class,  a  vestry-meeting  or  a  library 
for  the  young  or  the  old,  which  will  not  reward  every 
effort  of  conscientious  kindness  with  contributions 
to  the  individual  and  general  improvement ;  till  we 
know  that  our  humanity  is  blessed  only  by  a  bap 
tism  in  divinity. 

The  Jews  have  been  bound  so  inveterately  to 
gether,  in  part,  no  doubt,  by  the  very  agonies  of 
exile  and  captivity  and  scorn  they  have  endured; 
and  it  has  been  said,  that  some  form  of  calamity  or 
opposition  is  necessary  to  bind  and  defend  Chris 
tians  against  the  worse  combined  perils  of  spiritual 
lukewarmness  and  worldly  success.  But  is  there 
not,  in  the  course  of  nature  and  providence,  adver 
sity  and  trial  enough  to  rivet  in  faith  and  love  our 
souls  ?  Common  danger  does  press  men  in  close 
ranks  together.  But  in  our  actual  condition  in  this 
world,  with  disappointment  dogging  our  steps,  with 
pain  and  sickness  and  grief  on  our  track,  with  death 
slow  and  keen  holding  us  ever  in  pursuit,  and  many 
foes  in  full  cry  after  us  soon  to  seize  their  several 
shares  of  all  that  is  mortal  for  their  prey,  what  more 
want  we  to  consolidate  us  ?  Even  as  the  irrational 
tribes  of  the  lower  creation,  in  common  fear  and 
anguish,  flock  together ;  so,  under  the  throng  of  ills 
that  flesh  is  heir  to,  shall  we  not  find  solace  in  com 
munion?  Need  we,  like  the  old  Hebrews,  be 
driven  out  from  our  pleasant  seats  by  war,  or 
scourged  in  them  by  famine,  or  led  away  into  some 
7 


74       THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE. 

far  Chaldea,  to  hang  the  harps  of  our  gladness  upon 
the  willows  by  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  before  our 
religion  can  be  dear  to  us  ? 

Whether,  however,  by  adversity  driven,  or,  in 
disgust  with  earthly  prosperity,  drawn  to  seek  the 
consolations  of  the  Christian  faith,  those  consola 
tions  will  abound  only  as  we  nourish  the  sympa 
thies  through  which,  by  God's  decree,  they  flow ; 
and  those  sympathies  will  thrive  but  in  proportion 
to  our  intercourse  through  the  forms  and  means 
which  are  the  language  of  religion,  —  a  language 
speaking  when  the  tongue  is  silent,  and  often  more 
potent  than  the  tongue  in  its  speech. 

This  is  celebrated  as  the  reading  age.  Yet  we 
should  remember,  it  is  not  only  arbitrary  characters 
that  carry  meaning  to  our  souls.  The  heavens  and 
the  earth  are  but  a  grand  system  of  natural  signs 
to  convey  the  truth  and  mind  of  God.  And  God 
has,  moreover,  consulted  the  nature  of  the  human 
heart,  by  ordaining  another  style  of  language,  in  the 
emblems  through  which  our  spirits  may  converse. 
Christ,  the  spirit,  of  all  spirits  that  ever  wore  flesh, 
transcendent  in  insight  and  pure  intuition  of  excel 
lence,  yet  appointed  certain  forms,  and  showed  his 
supreme  wisdom  in  saying,  "  Go,  teach  all  nations, 
baptizing  them  ; "  and,  "  Do  this  in  remembrance  of 
me."  The  Jew,  in  his  synagogue,  used  an  earlier, 
more  juvenile  vocabulary,  copious  and  vivid  with 
altar  and  sacrifice,  procession  and  feast,  outer  court 
and  holy  of  holies;  requiring  a  ritual  more  striking 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  SYNAGOGUE.       75 

and  complex  according  to  his  imperfect  culture. 
In  terms  more  simple  and  beautiful,  significant  of 
loftier  affections  and  higher  hopes,  the  Son  of  God 
desired  that  Christians  should  communicate  in  his 
church.  Let  not  the  terms  be  neglected,  lest  the 
ideas  and  sentiments  they  set  forth  fall  into  disuse. 


76 


DISCOURSE   V. 


THE     LORD'S     TABLE. 
1  Cor.  x.  21.  —  THE  LORD'S  TABLE. 

THIS  is  one  of  a  number  of  familiar  expressions,  — 
such  as  the  Lord's  day  and  the  Lord's  house,  —  by 
which  we  connect  Christ  with  particular  times, 
places,  and  services.  On  the  first  Sunday  of  each 
month,  you  notice  almost  the  only  change  ever 
seen  in  these  courts.  A  board  has  been  spread, 
with  the  plate  and  cup  on  the  cloth  that  covers  it, 
presenting  the  form  and  likeness  of  what  may 
nourish  and  strengthen.  The  eye  may  rest  care 
lessly  on  it  as  you  come  in ;  but  nothing  else  in  all 
the  world  contains,  in  such  compass,  what  is  so 
significant  and  affecting.  Nothing  else,  purely 
material,  so  sets  forth  a  divine  power  and  virtue. 
By  stretching  out  his  hand  to  break  some  bread  and 
pour  some  wine,  the  Son  of  God  transformed  an 
old  Jewish  exclusive  feast  of  the  passover  into  a 
new  festival,  destined  to  go  beyond  the  bounds  of 
the  Hebrew  locality  and  name  ;  and,  beginning 
before  our  governments  and  customs  were  born, 
to  last  and  grow  through  all  succeeding  ages,  for 


THE  LORD'S  TABLE.  77 

the  most  glad  and  solemn  institute  of  every  Gentile 
nation. 

This,  its  enduring  power,  however,  depended  on 
nothing  gorgeous  or  imposing  in  its  origin.  It  was 
a  plain  meal,  —  the  last  supper  of  a  friend  with  the 
friends  he  was  about  to  leave.  Artists  and  men  of 
imagination  have  since  described  it  magnificently. 
The  Lord's  table  has  been  by  them  amply  raised 
and  extended,  or  curiously  carved  and  adorned. 
The  room  it  stood  in  has  been  expanded,  with  pol 
ished  pillars,  into  the  similitude  of  a  palace ;  and 
windows  have  been  opened  from  it  through  a  bland 
summer  air  far  into  beautiful  prospects.  By  yellow 
gold  and  pale  shining  silver,  mixed  with  sparkling 
gems,  in  soft  engravings  and  costly  paintings,  with 
rich  substances  of  solid  grain,  wood  or  ivory,  the 
Lord's  table  has  been  represented.  After  such  pat 
terns,  indeed,  it  has  actually  been  made,  under 
royal  roofs  furnished,  and  in  splendid  chapels  pre 
ciously  decorated  and  served.  But  the  place  where 
it  was  first  laid  was  only  a  poor  upper  chamber ; 
a  spare  room  yielded  for  that  purpose,  because 
required  for  no  other,  for  a  sad  band,  soon  to  be 
scattered.  Common  household  utensils  held  the 
bread  and  wine,  with  the  loaf  and  bitter  herbs  of 
which  they  partook ;  while  all  about  them,  as  they 
reclined,  was  as  homely  as  in  any  assembly  of  Isra 
elites  in  the  lowliest  dwelling  of  poverty.  Yet  this 
only  magnifies  the  heavenly  power,  with  which  that 
wonderful  being,  who  was  head  and  master  of  the 


78  THE  LORD'S  TABLE. 

feast,  has,  through  the  ordinance  which  the  touch 
of  his  finger  established,  reached  forth  to  all  the 
corners  of  the  earth,  to  make  his  supper  the  holiest 
of  traditions,  the  widest  of  observances,  and  most 
enduring  of  institutions. 

But  why  did  that  greatest  and  best  in  human 
form  set  up  such  a  table  ?  Wherefore  did  he,  on 
whose  lips  inspiration  sat  to  make  his  doctrines 
and  precepts  clearer  and  more  potent  than  all  other 
instructions  and  commands,  resort  to  this  ritual 
prescription  ?  Because  there  was  something  in 
his  mind  which  language  could  not  tell,  nor  tongue, 
though  on  fire  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  adequately 
express,  —  but  only  mute  and  touching  symbols 
convey.  As,  after  all  that  our  words  can  utter, 
there  is  something  else  which  only  natural  lan 
guage  can  communicate ;  or  as  we  appoint  social 
and  civil  solemnities,  beyond  discourse  or  gesture, 
to  impress  special  events  ;  so  in  Christ's  heart  was 
a  sentiment  too  deep  to  come  out  in  conversation, 
or  be  preserved  in  a  record.  Therefore,  with  a  holy 
ejaculation  and  sally  of  nature,  indicating  his  sup 
ply  to  the  human  soul,  as  he  shared  the  bread  and 
wine,  he  said,  "  This  is  my  body,"  and  "  This  is  my 
blood." 

The  Lord's  table,  then,  was  Christ's  mode  of 
communication.  In  periods  when  speech  is  rude 
and  imperfect,  a  picture-language  has  been  in 
vented,  in  which  certain  drawings  and  colors  stand 
for  particular  objects,  and  produce  impressions  on 


THE  LORD'S  TABLE.  79 

the  mind  more  vivid  than  arbitrary  characters.  In 
many  things,  such  as  the  sword  borne  before  the 
magistrate  to  signify  armed  law,  the  scales  of  jus 
tice,  or  the  figure  of  the  good  Samaritan,  for  charity, 
we  use  this  picture-language  still.  So  the  Lord's 
table,  above  all  the  syllables  of  the  dictionary,  por 
trays  his  feeling.  Beyond  all  the  sounds  of  human 
lips,  it  is  a  hieroglyphic  sign,  intelligible  to  all  un 
derstandings,  high  or  humble,  and,  without  learned 
interpretation,  pathetic  to  every  tribe.  The  lan 
guage  of  one  country  must  be  translated  for  the 
inhabitants  of  another.  But  to  Greek  and  Roman, 
to  Saxon  and  Arabian,  to  the  smooth  citizen  of  the 
town  and  to  the  unshorn  savage,  the  Lord's  table, 
the  broken  bread,  which  is  his  broken  body,  with 
the  flowing  wine,  which  is  his  streaming  blood, 
means,  and  will  for  ever  mean,  the  same. 

It  is  a  universal  token  of  love  let  down  from 
heaven,  and  a  banner  of  peace  moving  over  all 
the  earth.  It  has  been  the  purest  common  bond  of 
kindreds  and  nations,  to  link  them  together  below, 
and  lift  them  up  on  high.  As,  from  the  most  ancient 
times,  the  table  itself,  in  any  human  dwelling,  has 
been  the  signal  and  centre  of  human  friendship  and 
hospitality,  so  that  those  who  had  eaten  and  drunk 
together  could  not  be  foes,  but,  almost  as  by  a 
divine  appeal,  the  savor  of  their  meat  was  the 
cement  and  pledge  of  their  amity ;  so  those  who 
have  sat  in  sympathy  at  the  Lord's  table  have 
taken  and  imbibed  from  him  a  temper  better  and 


80  THE  LORD'S  TABLE. 

stronger  to  unite  than  all  the  customs  of  clans, 
and  all  the  policies  of  nations. 

This  table  has  done  for  mankind  what  could 
never  be  done  by  elements  purely  moral  and  ab 
stractly  rational.  In  truth,  we  are  not,  nor  are  the 
wisest  philosophers,  creatures  of  conscience  and 
calculation  alone ;  but  of  feeling  too,  and  of  asso 
ciation,  on  which  feeling  so  much  depends.  Nor 
is  it  the  weakness,  but  the  glory,  of  our  nature,  and 
one  of  its  finest  and  largest  susceptibilities  of  good, 
that  we  are  so.  If  a  parent's  portrait  can  make 
cold  canvas  the  inspirer  and  teacher  of  our  souls, 
in  a  lore  better  than  books  could  impart,  and  we 
should  not  think  him  the  wiser  who  before  it  might 
be  unmoved ;  so  this  portraiture  of  suffering  love 
and  self-sacrifice  in  the  Lord's  table  can  revive  bur 
languishing  religious  affections.  When  all  else  may 
have  failed ;  when  argument  has  fallen  short,  and 
resolution  grown  weak,  and  prayer  itself,  alas !  may 
have  become  dull  and  faint,  the  Lord's  table  may 
afford  us  a  stimulus  from  the  soul  of  Jesus,  through 
the  electric  chain  of  his  followers. 

Many  are  accustomed  to  think  of  Christianity 
simply  as  a  written  covenant.  The  name  calls  up 
to  their  imagination  only  a  series  of  books,  chap 
ters,  and  verses  in  the  New  Testament.  Thank 
God  that  we  have  this  printed,  infallible,  and  incor 
ruptible  memorial  of  our  Lord's  life  and  teachings. 
Thank  God,  that,  when  a  mass  of  unauthorized 
ceremonies  and  inconsistent  pomp  was  piled  on 


THE    LORD'S    TABLE.  81 

the  simplicity  of  the  gospel,  there  were  those  found 
to  raise  the  cry,  —  "  The  Bible,  the  Bible  only,  the 
religion  of  Protestants  ! "  Nevertheless,  in  this  age 
of  words,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  Chris 
tianity  enjoined  by  the  Bible  is  in  part  unwritten ; 
cannot  be  put  into  any  stroke  of  the  pen,  any  utter 
ance  of  the  mouth,  or  pressure  of  the  types.  Its 
inspiration,  that  sat  on  its  apostles  like  cloven 
tongues  of  fire,  flowed,  not  only  into  words,  but  into 
ordinances,  and  made  them  instruments  to  write  it 
on  the  tables  of  the  heart,  to  grave  it  in  the  features 
of  the  face,  to  make  it  move  in  more  gracious  man 
ners,  and  sound  in  kindlier  tones. 

Thus  it  gave  an  instruction  which  our  nature 
cannot  receive  from  being  set  at  school  to  any  logi 
cal  propositions.  In  truth,  it  is  the  vice  and  danger 
of  our  times,  that  even  the  cultivated  mind  of  the 
community  is  too  much  in  contact  with  words,  and 
too  little  in  contact  with  things.  Many  are  now 
educated  upon  phrases,  and  scarcely  come,  with  all 
their  wisdom,  to  know  a  thing.  There  is,  no  doubt, 
a  peril  from  forms  as  well  as  from  words ;  but  forms 
may  sometimes  bring  us  nearer  than  words  to  re 
ality,  as  a  symbol  expresses  more  than  an  arbitrary 
character. 

We  speak,  as  of  a  supreme  authority  and  obliga 
tion,  of  the  record  of  our  religion.  But  its  outward 
forms,  the  buildings  it  has  reared,  with  solemn  gates 
and  halls  of  praise  and  prayer,  the  celebrations  it 
has  preserved  from  Christ  himself  and  his  commis- 


82  THE  LORD'S  TABLE. 

sioned  followers,  as  well  as  that  best  of  books  it 
has  given  to  the  world,  are  its  record.  And  of  all 
the  portions  of  this  larger  record,  while  none  is  more 
ancient  than  the  Lord's  table,  none  perhaps  has 
poured  such  renewing  energy  into  the  devout  and 
humane  dispositions  of  God's  children.  It  is  the 
loftiest  and  most  venerable  in  that  chain  of  monu 
ments  and  historic  proofs,  that,  like  a  range  of 
mountains,  skirts  the  face  of  the  earth,  runs  all  the 
way  from  Christ's  visible  presence,  and  is  illumined 
by  the  days  of  worship  and  communion.  It  is,  as 
we  call  it,  a  means  of  grace,  a  medium  bringing  from 
Christ  to  the  sincere  communicant,  and  carrying 
back,  sympathies,  to  bear  which  to  and  fro  the  voice 
of  a  man  alone  is  unequal  or  unfit.  Its  disuse, — 
against  which  doubtless  many,  not  observing  it, 
would  exclaim,  —  with  the  omission  of  all  the  con 
nected  rites,  confining  religion  to  the  volume  that 
tells  its  story,  would  immediately  and  vastly  reduce 
the  power  of  religion  over  the  human  heart,  whether 
to  restrain  from  evil,  or  to  excite  to  good. 

I  know  we  talk  of  the  principles  of  Christianity 
as  the  basis  of  our  trust  for  the  improvement  and 
salvation  of  ourselves  and  the  race.  But  it  is  not 
the  principles  of  Christianity,  as  generalizations  in 
this  poor  brain  of  ours,  that  can  save  us ;  but  rather 
those  principles  as  incarnations  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  as  vital  currents  from  his  person  and  spirit,  to 
maintain  our  intercourse  with  himself.  The  con 
viction  of  such  intercourse  is  no  groundless  or  super- 


THE  LORD'S  TABLE.  83 

stitious  faith.  Jesus  was  never  really  separated 
from  his  friends.  The  brown  clod  dissolving  be 
neath,  the  changeful,  dissipating  air  above,  could 
not  remove  him.  It  was  not  in  the  power  of  death, 
by  any  means,  to  lay  the  Son  of  God  in  the  dust. 
Mary  was  mistaken  as  she  cried,  through  her  tears, 
at  the  sepulchre,  that  they  had  taken  away  her 
Lord.  Where  he  is  in  space,  as  our  short,  blind 
senses  measure  it,  we  cannot  indeed  tell.  In  this 
multiplied  complexity  of  revolving  motions,  we  can 
scarce  tell  where  in  space  we  are  ourselves.  But 
as  God  is  with  us ;  and  as  heaven,  his  habitation, 
must  therefore  be  near,  even  at  the  door,  —  Jesus 
Christ  cannot  be  wanting  to  his  own  declaration, 
that  he  will  ever  be  with  his  disciples'  seeking 
souls.  To  every  throb  of  our  affection,  he  answers. 
Though  neither  beam  of  light  nor  breath  of  air 
inform  of  him ;  though  there  be  no  whisper  in  our 
ears  of  his  presence,  nor  audible  repeating  of  his 
old  benediction  of  peace  in  the  circle  of  his  follow 
ers  ;  yet  the  vision  and  the  hearing  shall  be,  where 
God's  kingdom  and  all  reality  is,  within.  The 
blessing  shall  be  felt,  and,  with  him  who  is  the 
spring  of  our  belief  and  expectation,  in  a  joy  be 
yond  that  from  any  human  face  or  enchanting 
voice,  unspeakable  intimacy  established. 

Thank  God,  that,  in  this  so  mysterious,  unfa 
thomable  sea  of  existence,  we  have  such  clear,  and, 
to  the  heart,  palpable  support.  "  If  this  fail,  the 
pillared  firmament  is  rottenness."  Thank  God, 


84  THE  LORD'S  TABLE. 

that  a  board  can  be  spread,  and  called  truly,  in  the 
full  and  perfect  sense,  the  Lord's  table.  Thank  God, 
that,  from  vain  wrestlings  with  our  mortal  destiny, 
which  are  known  alike  to  the  ignorant  and  the 
wise ;  from  metaphysic  depths  of  doubtful  specula 
tion  ;  from  those  sore  smitings  of  pain  and  grief, 
harder  than  the  pelting  snow  or  hail;  from  all  that 
darkens  round  our  path,  or  disappoints  our  aim, 
we  can  flee  to  a  refuge  raised  firm  on  supernatural 
foundations,  —  the  Lord's  table.  Sometimes,  when 
the  vapory  gloom  comes  hovering  over  me,  imaging 
the  damp  and  narrow  pit  on  whose  edge  I  tread ; 
sometimes,  when  the  cold  wind  blows  upon  me, 
shaking  down  or  whirling  abroad  some  last  leaf  or 
remnant  of  decay ;  sometimes,  when  I  gaze  at  the 
midnight  stars,  and,  in  all  their  grand  and  bright 
procession,  they  describe  not  my  onward  course; 
sometimes  in  the  musing  hours  that  show  me  my 
ignorance,  and  sometimes  in  the  active  ones  that 
limit  my  sublunary  end,  I  am  impelled  to  own 
these  tangible  remembrances  of  the  gracious  past, 
and  clear  assurances  of  the  glorious  future,  more 
gratefully  than  my  accents  can  express. 

The  Lord's  table !  Itself  made  of  earthly  mat 
ter,  it  is  caught  up  for  a  vehicle  of  the  love  that 
shall  last  when  it  crumbles.  In  the  eyes  of  all,  can 
it  not  have  dignity  and  beauty,  when,  lo !  beyond 
any  imagination  of  genius,  from  its  little  mechani 
cal  limit  here,  it  dilates  over  the  earth ;  beyond  this 
little  hour  stands  through  unreckoned  centuries  of 


THE  LORD'S  TABLE.  85 

time,  and,  in  its  ascending  length,  reaches,  well  pro 
vided  with  innumerable  seats,  up  to  heaven ;  while 
the  guests  that  come  to  it  are  not  only  health  and 
human  joy,  but  pale  sickness,  that  has  resigned  its 
last  earthly  hope;   sorrow  from  the  grave   where 
it  has  laid  its  last  earthly  treasure ;    and  saintly 
heroism,  persecuted  and  hard-pushed  to  nerve  itself 
for  some  terrible  endurance  or  struggle.     The  as 
cended  Christ,  with  his  risen  followers,  meantime 
pours  in  light  and  strength  from  an  invisible  pre 
sence.      As  certain  companions  of  a  brave  man, 
fallen  in  battle,  refused  to  consider  him  dead,  but 
still  called  his  name  in  the  roll ;  so  those  now  par 
taking  from  the  Lord's  table,  know  that  their  com 
rades,  in   past  time   communing  with    God   and 
Christ,  though  fallen  on  earth,  are  yet  alive,  and 
that  the  name  which  is  above  every  name  among 
men  liveth  evermore. 

This  upper  and  future  reference  of  the  Lord's 
table,  like  every  thing  else  in  our  religion,  connects 
itself  with  our  forth-reaching  and  undying  nature. 
Even  the  daily  board  at  which  we  gather,  God  has 
contrived  to  meet  nobler  ends  than  nutriment  or 
outward  delight.  The  social  meal  is  the  medium  of 
how  much  human  friendship,  the  nourisher  of  how 
much  kindred  love,  the  occasion  of  how  much  recon 
cilement,  the  channel  of  how  much  needful  counsel 
from  the  old  to  the  young!  "  We  are  debtors  to  the 
flesh,  not  to  live  after  the  flesh."  The  table  of  God's 
goodness  has,  indeed,  been  often  abused  by  the  ex- 
8 


00  THE    LORD'S    TABLE. 

cesses  of  his  children ;  but  it  is  a  striking  fact  that 
the  more  malignant  passions  are  not  wont  to  come 
to  it.  During  their  dreadful  sway,  they  starve  those 
they  possess,  drive  them  away  from  the  bright  and 
pleasant  assembly  into  secret  dens  and  midnight 
blackness,  as  foes  to  all  that  is  of  an  innocently  fes 
tival  and  affectionately  flowing  nature;  while,  at 
the  table  where  our  Father  unites  us,  he  kindles  all 
good  wishes  and  gracious  aspirations,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  lights  the  wholesome  fires  of  natural 
health  and  strength.  Now,  the  Lord's  table,  that 
supping  with  us  and  we  with  him,  which  goes  on  in 
our  hearts  in  anticipation  of  the  coming  joy  of  that 
feast  which  he  promises  in  the  kingdom  of  God, 
only  carries  up  the  first  natural  mercy  we  experi 
ence  into  loftier  and  enduring  blessedness.  Into 
what  finer  shape  these  gross  organs  and  senses  shall 
at  length  be  transformed ;  what  more  airy  and  deli 
cate  food  can  be  ministered  to  our  incorruptible 
being ;  what  hands  we  shall  stretch  forth  either  for 
the  tokens  of  God's  goodness  or  the  harps  of  his 
praise ;  in  what  new  ways  we  shall  taste  his  kind 
ness  ;  on  what  breeze  the  fragrance  of  his  love  may 
be  wafted ;  in  short,  by  what  ties  our  undoubtedly 
immortal  relation  with  all  the  beauty  and  richness 
of  nature  will  be  maintained,  we  know  not.  Only 
He  knows  who  connects  us  here,  and  will  connect 
us  there,  with  his  glorious  works.  We  may  but 
feel,  that,  of  all  this,  the  Lord's  table  is  the  emblem 
here,  and  will  be  the  fulfilment  hereafter. 


87 


DISCOURSE   VI. 


EATING    THE   LORD'S   SUPPER. 
1  Cor.  xi.  20.  —  THIS  is  NOT  TO  EAT  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

THESE  words  are  in  the  tone  of  surprise  and  dis 
pleasure.  The  apostle  speaks  of  something  which 
had  the  look  of  eating  the  Lord's  Supper,  and 
passed  for  that  among  the  Corinthian  Christians, 
but  was  not  so  in  reality.  His  decision,  in  the 
special  case  that  demanded  his  attention,  suggests 
the  general  inquiry  what  eating  the  Lord's  Supper 
is  not,  and  what  it  is,  in  respect  to  the  views  and 
customs  of  our  own  day. 

There  is  a  motive  to  this  inquiry  in  the  preva 
lence  of  many  vague,  incorrect,  and  injurious  ideas 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,  leading  to  its  abuse  on  the 
one  hand,  and  to  its  neglect  on  the  other.  It  is  not 
the  worldly  or  the  wicked  alone  who  misunderstand 
or  think  little  of  it.  Not  a  few  well-meaning  reli 
gious  persons  seem  to  have  judged  it  an  unreal, 
profitless  thing,  worn  out,  and  fit  only  to  be  laid 
aside.  It  appears  to  them  as  a  pale  ghost  of  the 
past,  preposterously  walking  the  earth  beyond  its 
time,  coming  with  unseemly  intrusion  into  the  midst 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

of  the  stirring,  substantial  affairs  of  our  age,  and 
asking  an  attention  to  which  it  has  no  claim.  It 
must  be  confessed,  some  punctual  observers,  in  the 
sort  of  respect  they  pay,  give  it  this  color  of  a  bodi 
less  abstraction,  to  which  they  win  little  regard  by 
their  own  shivering,  superstitious  reverence.  Must 
it  not  be  added,  that  other  unworthy  devotees  at 
the  supper  repel  better  men  than  themselves  from  the 
service  in  which  they  can  have  a  hand  ?  But  how 
ever  misrepresented  and  hindered  by  faint  friends, 
thoughtless  scorners,  or  uncompromising  foes,  both 
its  history  and  present  influence,  among  the  wise  and 
good,  prove  its  strong  and  tenaciously  vital  quality. 
Being,  moreover,  actually  part  of  our  worship,  set 
forth  here  in  the  eyes  of  the  congregation,  it  must 
be  justified  if  retained,  and  appreciated  to  be  either 
well  administered  or  profitably  received.  In  regard, 
however,  to  the  rite  itself,  there  need  be  no  anxiety. 
What  in  it  is  immortally  new  and  fresh,  unites  with 
what  is  for  ever  venerable,  for  its  easy  and  trium 
phant  vindication. 

Throughout  Christendom  and  the  whole  domain 
of  civilization,  all  men  raised  above  the  lowest 
ignorance  know,  as  a  main  fact  of  their  informa 
tion,  that  the  followers  of  Jesus  do  celebrate  an 
ordinance  designated  by  this  title  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  It  is  an  ordinance  more  than  eighteen 
centuries  old.  Beside  it,  no  other  ordinance  in  the 
world's  annals  has  had  a  hold  at  once  so  long  and 
firm  on  the  intelligence  of  the  human  mind.  Begin- 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  »» 

ning  in  an  empty  upper  chamber,  it  has  reached 
into  every  high  and  humble  place  over  most  of  the 
territory  of  the  globe.  The  Lord's  table  has  been 
spread  upon  every  continent  and  almost  every  isle ; 
and  the  Lord's  Supper,  with  a  periodical  solemnity, 
in  sorrowful  hours,  near  the  moment  of  death,  or 
on  the  eve  of  fearful  exposure,  partaken  by  millions 
in  every  tongue  invoking  divine  help,  or  commend 
ing  themselves  to  divine  mercy.  The  board  before 
us  is  but  an  infinitely  small  part  of  its  vast  extent 
and  endless  continuation.  Those  who  do,  and  those 
who  do  not,  sit  at  this  board,  may  alike  wish  to 
understand  what  it  is  to  eat  the  Lord's  Supper. 

First,  it  is  not  to  eat  the  Lord's  Supper  to  make 
it  a  feast  for  the  satisfaction  of  outward  appetite. 
Into  so  low  an  estate,  as  we  learn  from  Paul's 
rebuke,  had  it  degenerated  among  the  Corinthians. 
They  may,  indeed,  have  but  imitated  an  earlier 
bad  example,  set  in  the  depravity  of  human  nature. 
It  was  a  custom  at  Athens,  in  the  age  of  Socrates, 
for  each  person  coming  to  a  feast  to  bring  his  own 
provision ;  not  that,  as  in  some  later  social  festivals, 
he  might  add  it  to  the  common  stock,  but  to  feed 
on  it  by  himself  alone.  This  habit,  perhaps  com 
ing  somehow  on  the  wind  to  the  little  band  of  the 
apostle's  converts,  or  growing  up  out  of  the  selfish 
ness  of  their  own  hearts,  in  the  fading  away  of 
Christ's  purpose  from  their  minds,  led  the  rich 
among  them  to  bring  to  the  consecrated  place  their 
delicate  luxuries,  and  the  poor  their  plainer  diet  or 
8* 


90  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

their  empty-handed  want;  while  each  partook  of 
what  he  had  separately,  one  before  another,  till  at 
last  one  was  hungry,  and  another  drunken. 

No  wonder  the  apostle  said  this  was  not  to  eat 
the  Lord's  Supper.  No  wonder  he  declared  such 
eating  and  drinking  unworthy  and  damnable.  Yet 
how  shocking  that  perversion,  by  which  his  phrase 
has,  in  modern  times,  been  seized  to  denounce  a 
curse  on  supposed  incorrectness  or  free  difference 
of  religious  opinion ;  and  thus  turned  into  a  horri 
ble  engine  of  ecclesiastic  tyranny,  as  offensive  to 
that  God  whose  government  some  would  fain  be 
thought  to  have  in  their  keeping,  as  it  is  unjust 
and  harmful  to  men!  It  is  upon  something  far 
different,  even  upon  making  a  sensual  feast  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  that  Paul  lays  his  ban.  Boldly  he 
treads  into  the  thicket  of  this  Corinthian  sin,  and 
tramples  every  false  notion  under  foot.  They  fan 
cied,  forsooth,  they  were  eating  the  Lord's  Supper, 
because  they  came  together  in  one  place.  With 
out  hesitation  he  explodes  the  superstition,  which, 
alas !  has  reached  our  own  day,  that  any  local  sa- 
credness  of  temple  or  altar  made  an  act  holy.  He 
briefly  tells  the  church,  that  assembling  in  one  spot, 
however  dedicated  and  sequestered,  did  not  cause 
their  exclusive  and  proud  entertainment  to  be  the 
Lord's  Supper.  The  Lord's  Supper  was  a  showing 
forth  of  the  Lord's  death.  It  consisted  in  a  cordial, 
joint  remembrance  of  what  he  had  done  and  borne ; 
and  a  revival,  in  their  hearts,  of  the  spirit  in  which 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  91 

he  had  done  and  borne  it.  Truly,  there  could  be 
no  heavier  rebuke  than  that  of  his  passion  upon 
their  insobriety. 

The  apostle's  admonition  is  still  instructive. 
Some,  in  our  own  age,  have  complained  of  the 
grave  and  serious  manner  of  observing  the  Lord's 
Supper.  They  would  have  it  more  of  a  social  and 
friendly  feast ;  not  indeed  after  the  Athenian  or 
Corinthian  style,  but  in  the  warmth  of  a  sympa 
thetic  and  conversational  meeting.  Surely,  there 
should  be  no  coldness  round  the  Lord's  table.  Yet 
this  table  cannot  furnish  what  is  like  any  other 
feast,  the  dinner  given  to  a  hero,  or  even  the  family 
thanksgiving  of  kindred  and  friends,  eating  and 
drinking,  in  gay,  though  innocent,  hilarity  together. 
In  the  Lord's  Supper  is  the  presence  of  a  spirit  pe 
culiar,  awful  in  purity,  as  it  is  tender  in  love.  There 
is  a  hand  felt  pressing  on  the  heart,  to  chasten  the 
gush  of  common  greeting  and  festivity.  There  is  a 
stillness  spreading  over  the  company,  which  is  the 
consenting  tribute  of  all  to  the  venerated  one, 
unseen  in  the  midst ;  a  silence,  not  of  death,  but  of 
the  soul's  speech. 

Eating  and,  drinking,  which  are  the  original  and 
universal  methods  of  supplying  the  first  human 
necessities,  are  indeed  but  symbolic  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  As  the  breaking  of  bread  together  is  a 
world-wide  sign  of  amicable  feeling,  —  as  a  grain 
of  salt  is  the  token  of  good-will  everywhere,  from 
the  Arab  in  his  desert  to  the  Highlander  on  his 


92          EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

hills ;  so  this  Christian  festival  signifies  no  bodily 
feast,  but  communion  with  Christ. 

But  the  apostle's  description  shows  again,  that 
it  is  not  eating  the  Lord's  Supper  to  make  it  a 
mere  form.  Externally,  no  doubt,  it  is  a  form. 
But  there  are  two  kinds  of  forms,  the  dead  and 
the  living.  The  dead  are  those  that  have  lost,  or 
never  had,  life.  The  living  are  those  that  unfold 
and  preserve  some  principle  and  power,  whether  in 
the  organic  life  of  nature  or  of  man.  Such  a  form 
is  the  tree,  that  buds  and  blooms,  to  show  in  flower 
and  fruit  the  hidden  meaning  which  God  set  in  its 
seed.  Such  a  form  is  the  bird,  that  gives  wings 
and  songs  to  an  original  idea  and  germ  of  animal 
life,  implanted  by  the  Creator.  Such  a  form  is  the 
human  body,  that  manifests,  in  thousandfold  ac 
tion,  a  rational  and  supernatural  energy.  These 
parallels  only  do  justice  to  that  form  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  which,  from  his  planting  hand  and  nurtur 
ing  spirit,  was  a  simple  growth  into  the  world  of 
his  mind  and  love. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  difference  in  forms.  Radical, 
indiscriminate  prejudice  against  all  forms  is  contra 
diction  to  true  philosophy,  and  treason  to  our  best 
affections.  The  living  forms  are  of  indispensable 
value  in  every  department  of  human  existence. 
They  make  the  shape  and  mould  of  all  society. 
Nowhere  should  they  be  mere  or  dead  forms.  There 
should  be  no  customary  mode  but  what  sets  forth 
and  maintains  some  matter  of  truth  and  justice. 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  93 

The  civilities  of  life,  our  habitual  salutations,  the 
beginning  and  ending  of  a  letter,  the  politeness  of 
our  manners,  the  very  motions  and  signs  of  our 
courtesy,  should  be  full  of  our  hearts,  else  they  are 
worse  than  a  mere  appearance ;  which,  as  it  is 
sometimes  apologetically  said,  everybody  under 
stands.  Nay,  what  is  thus  understood  but  the 
counterfeit  of  sincerity !  It  is  an  indication  of 
the  progress  of  human  sinfulness ;  and,  like  a  dry 
stain  upon  the  wharf,  marks  how  low  has  ebbed  the 
tide  of  man's  generosity  to  man.  When  all  this 
degeneracy  is  acquiesced  in,  —  when  these  mere 
forms,  being  cut  off  from  the  soul's  truth,  no  more 
breathe  and  pulse  from  its  healthy  depths,  but  are 
like  a  shell  coldly  parting  from  the  vital  organs  out 
of  which  it  grew,  —  they  lose  all  their  beauty,  be 
come  a  positive  evil,  and  stand  in  the  way.  They 
check  all  spiritual  increase,  confirm  hypocritical 
pretension,  are  the  vessels  of  sanctimonious  affec 
tation,  and,  in  their  religious  character,  a  wretched 
investment  of  spiritual  pride,  pompous  indolence, 
and  aspiring  ambition.  They  are  a  fine  dress  on 
the  wearer's  disease,  or  a  magnificent  mausoleum 
and  marble  temple  over  a  corpse.  Yet  never, 
because  of  such  deadness  or  lifeless  keeping  of  the 
Christian  forms,  should  we  give  them  up,  to  rely  on 
our  own  genius  for  the  substitute  of  a  way  of  sal 
vation.  This  would  be  like  going  into  the  famous 
galleries  of  art,  and  reducing  the  master-pieces  and 
models  of  sculpture  and  painting,  that  shine  as 


94         EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

openings  from  heaven  on  the  walls,  to  a  confusion 
of  color  and  a  heap  of  clay,  in  order  to  reconstruct 
something  better  than  all  that  ancient  and  mar 
vellous  beauty,  by  our  own  wit,  at  our  own  will. 

Once  more,  the  meaning  of  our  text  shows  that 
eating  the  Lord's  Supper  is  not  to  make  a  profes 
sion  of  holiness.  This  is  a  very  common  mistake. 
Many  are  prevented  from  coming  to  the  table  by 
their  reluctance  to  make  such  a  profession.  They 
declare  they  are  not  good  enough  to  eat  the  Lord's 
Supper.  They  would  be  religious  without  profess 
ing  to  be  so,  and  prefer,  they  say,  to  be  better  than 
they  profess,  than  to  profess  more  than  they  are. 
Indeed,  we  often  hear  it  spoken  in  eulogy  of  some 
one,  that  he  never  professed,  but  was  a  good  man  ; 
while  vials  of  scorn  and  reproach  are  poured  at  once 
upon  the  ordinances  of  religion  and  on  the  loud 
professor  who  maintains  them.  But  all  this  style  of 
argument  is  cancelled  by  considering  that  it  is  not  a 
profession  of  holiness  which,  in  eating  the  Lord's 
Supper,  we  make.  It  is  but  emphatically  saying, 
what  every  man  would  blush  to  deny,  that  we  desire 
to  be  Christian  and  holy.  Yet,  so  far  from  being  a 
profession  of  holiness,  it  is,  in  truth,  the  very  oppo 
site.  It  is  a  declaration  of  our  not  having  attained 
what  we  desire,  because  so  anxiously  we  use  this 
means  of  attaining  it.  They  who  do  not  use  the 
means  might  more  justly  be  thought  to  make  a  pro 
fession  of  holiness.  Unsolicitous  to  try  new  me 
thods,  or  to  avail  themselves  of  the  old  institutions  of 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  95 

the  gospel,  they  may  be  supposed  content  with  their 
spiritual  state.  It  is  the  man  in  danger  of  drown 
ing  that  grasps  the  rope,  despised  by  him  who  can 
swim  at  ease  through  the  sea.  Moreover,  it  was 
not  saints,  sound  and  perfect  men,  but  sick  and 
sinful  souls,  that  Jesus  first  called  to  that  emblema 
tic  meal  his  disciples  have  ever  since  partaken.  He 
did  not  expel  the  vile,  nor  drive  out  Judas  himself. 
We  come  to  the  Lord's  Supper  hungry  and  thirsty, 
seeing  the  holiness  not  in  ourselves,  but  in  him  from 
whom  we  would  assimilate  it  to  ourselves.  Our 
faith  in  him,  our  love  to  him,  we  are  willing  to  pro 
fess.  His  side,  in  this  world's  conflicts,  we  are 
humbly  willing  to  take.  So  much,  gratitude  and 
justice  owe.  Whether  those  who  withhold  the 
tribute  do  all  in  their  power,  either  to  own  their 
debt  to  him,  or  to  gain  his  aid,  it  were  well  to 
reflect. 

Still,  again,  eating  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  Paul 
describes  it,  is  not  to  increase  our  moral  obligations. 
There  could  not  be  a  more  false  or  hurtful  notion 
than  the  one  so  generally  accepted,  that  observing 
this  ordinance  is  coming  under  certain  bonds  of 
purity,  charity,  and  devotion.  I  pray  you,  is  ab 
staining  from  it,  then,  an  escape  from  such  bonds  ? 
Verily,  we  are  under  bonds  already.  Infinitely 
bound  are  we  beforehand  to  love  and  serve  God, 
to  do  good  always  to  our  fellow-men,  and  to  honor 
and  obey  Jesus  Christ  the  moment  he,  in  his  life 
and  spirit,  is  made  known  to  us.  These  obligations 


96  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

we  cannot  by  any  step  of  ours  create,  more  than 
we  could  the  universe.  By  no  omission  or  excuse 
can  we  run  from  them,  more  than,  by  our  silence 
or  speed,  we  could  hide  or  get  away  from  the  laws 
of  nature  around  us,  or  in  our  own  being.  Any 
who  fancy,  that,  by  neglecting  the  ritual  of  religious 
love  and  worship,  they  are  exempting  themselves 
from  the  eternal  commands  of  equity  and  piety,  do 
but  rush  to  the  woful  execution  of  the  commands 
they  would  avoid.  Eating  the  Lord's  Supper  re 
minds  us  of  our  obligations,  and  may  assist  us  to 
fulfil  them,  but  does  not  originally  impose  them, 
or  add  to  their  essential  weight  or  number. 

In  fine,  according  to  the  mind  of  the  apostle, 
eating  the  Lord's  Supper  is  not  swearing  an  oath. 
The  Romish  dogma,  that  the  communicant  eats  the 
real  flesh  and  drinks  the  real  blood  of  Christ,  and 
thus  assumes  a  vow  and  performs  a  sacrament, 
such  as  men  have  sealed  with  awful  ceremonies 
and  signed  in  their  heart's  gore,  is  a  fancy  no  less 
unscriptural  than  irrational,  and  contrary  especially 
to  the  discourse  of  Christ.  As  though  to  guard 
against  this  very  mistake  and  conclusion  of  moral 
debility,  after  addressing  his  disciples  in  this  vivid 
imagination  of  eating  his  flesh  and  drinking  his 
blood,  he  affirms,  "  The  words  that  I  speak  unto 
you  are  spirit,  and  they  are  life."  As  much  as  to 
say,  "  It  is  no  physical  or  literal  meaning  I  intend 
by  them,  but  a  sense  of  spiritual,  cordial  commu 
nion  with  my  own  feeling  and  mind."  So  he  stops 


EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER.          97 

their  murmur  at  what  they  were  at  first  inclined  to 
think  a  hard  saying.  So  he  authoritatively  shuts 
off  all  gross  interpretations,  early  or  late,  of  his  lan 
guage.  So  he  transforms  these  elements  from  all 
material  coarseness,  and  fills  them  with  an  immor 
tal  vitality.  For  no  explanation  of  his  own  lan 
guage  should  we  be  more  grateful.  It  were  a 
very  little  thing,  in  comparison,  to  have  or  par 
take  of  Christ's  body;  but  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
have  and  partake  of  his  spirit  and  soul. 

Let  us  now  consider,  more  positively,  what  to 
eat  the  Lord's  Supper  is.  First,  as  a  showing  forth 
of  his  death,  it  is  the  highest  manifestation  of  the 
divine  love.  So,  in  the  Scriptures,  the  death  of 
Christ,  the  sinless  Son  of  God,  is  described.  Such 
a  significance  we  may  well  find  in  the  table,  whose 
very  food  seemed  to  be  the  sacrifice  that  he  made; 
The  natural  mercy  of  God  is  manifested  in  our 
daily  bread  and  the  water-spring.  So  it  was  fitting 
that  the  nourishing  loaf,  and  the  water  turned  into 
wine,  should  be  chosen  for  its  lively  tokens  by  his 
supernatural  mercy.  There  is  here  an  ascending 
scale  of  symbols,  raised  to  their  highest  power  and 
refined  to  the  utmost  degree.  The  elements  of 
bread  and  wine  are  shadows  of  the  Saviour's  bro 
ken  body  and  flowing  blood.  But  these  again  are 
emblems  and  extreme  testimonies  of  the  fatherly 
grace,  that  would,  at  such  cost,  save  the  dead  in 
trespasses.  In  the  supper  there  is  a  representation 
of  the  cross,  a  picture,  carried  to  the  very  last  ex- 
9 


98  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

pressiveness  with  which  the  finger  of  God's  own 
spirit  could  touch  it,  of  superhuman  anxiety  in  the 
very  heavens  to  pardon  and  redeem  the  guilty. 
No  picture  of  aught  else  transpiring  under  the  sun 
has,  in  power  to  move,  approached  any  compara- 
bleness  with  this.  How  else,  indeed,  could  the 
Deity  himself  have  spoken  in  a  voice  so  clear  to 
waken,  and  so  kind  to  assure !  This,  in  truth,  is  the 
atonement  or  reconciliation  of  the  depraved  and 
alienated  human  soul  with  God ;  for  it  seems  put 
before  us  as  proving  a  mercy  no  depravity  or  aliena 
tion  can  resist.  The  unblemished  one  expires  to 
bring  forgiveness  to  those  all  spotted  over  with 
iniquity ;  by  his  agony  to  deliver  men  from  the  very 
sin  that  nailed  him  to  the  tree,  and  cure  in  them 
the  plague  of  their  own  hearts  under  which  he  fell. 
Surely,  benevolence,  though  almighty,  could  no  fur 
ther  go,  nor  find  any  more  expressive  language  in 
which  to  speak.  Human  thought  or  imagination 
could  not  compass  a  more  signal  demonstration  of 
God's  love.  All  that  nature  means  by  the  body's 
food  and  refreshment  is  first  made  the  token  of  that 
heart  which  burst  and  bled  in  anguish,  because  so 
it  could  express  a  more  effectual  benignity;  and 
that  heart,  thus  fainting  away  in  utter  weakness  of 
mortality,  and  breathing  out  its  last  pains  in  prayers 
for  those  inflicting  them,  is  then  made  a  token  of 
the  disposition  of  God  towards  the  spirit  in  man. 

This  meaning  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  the  su 
preme  sign  of  divine  love,  let  us  now  observe,  falls 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  99 

in  with  all  that  is  best  in  human  thought  and  know 
ledge.  It  is  a  fact  of  singular  and  transcendent 
beauty,  that  all  discovery,  through  all  history,  in  all 
the  world,  has  been  but  the  gradual  and  ever  cumu 
lative  discovery  of  the  goodness  of  God.  At  first, 
on  the  rough  and  stormy  earth,  where  so  much 
seemed  adverse  to  human  comfort,  the  fancy  natu 
rally  rose  in  men's  minds,  of  hostile  as  well  as 
friendly  divinities,  of  rival  kingdoms  of  good  and 
evil,  of  some  malignity  of  a  personal  Satan,  or 
essential  evil  of  matter.  But  lo !  marvellously,  all 
invention,  all  progressive  insight,  has  been  of  the 
kindness  of  the  one  Maker  and  Ruler.  Every  up 
turned  layer  of  the  earth  discloses  the  amount  of 
happy  life  he  has  been  continually  forming.  The 
most  fiery  and  irresistible  elements  illustrate  their 
Author's  love,  originally  infused  into  them,  in  be 
coming  man's  mighty  servants  to  confer  countless 
inestimable  benefits  of  intercourse  and  improve 
ment.  Sharp,  corroding  fluids  yield  an  ether  that 
laps  distress  in  oblivion,  or  changes  it  from  dread 
ful  torture  to  a  happy  dream ;  and  poisons  them 
selves  are  transmuted  into  medicines  more  precious 
than  gold  and  gems,  once  alone  prized,  from  the 
same  subterranean  mines.  The  gulfs  and  preci 
pices,  once  thought  to  demonstrate  and  lay  bare 
the  divine  displeasure,  prove  to  be  but  revelations 
of  creative  benignity.  Man's  discovery  is  no  disco 
very  of  aught  malign  in  the  creation,  but  a  con 
tinual  reduction  of  the  domain  of  evil,  promising 


100  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

to  bring  it  at  last,  in  the  perception  of  nature  and 
unfolding  of  the  soul,  to  the  point  of  sheer  nothing 
ness  and  utter  extinction. 

Now,  all  this  scientific  discovery  of  God's  good 
ness  is  but  a  ladder  to  the  highest  point  of  that 
goodness  revealed  in  the  gospel,  whose  crown  is  in 
the  death  of  Christ,  and  whose  celebration  is  in  the 
Lord's  Supper.  This  fathoming  and  publishing  of 
nature,  as  collateral  and  confirmatory  of  the  glad 
tidings  of  grace,  has  an  unparalleled  sublimity.  So 
sitting  at  the  Lord's  table,  and  confiding  in  the  di 
vine  love,  no  contradiction  comes  to  us  from  without. 
This  growing  agreement  of  nature  and  Christianity 
is  destined  to  work  the  greatest  of  all  revolutions. 
Before  this  brightening  radiance  from  below  and 
above,  all  gloomy  views  of  God's  feeling  to  his 
children,  and  all  dark  systems  of  theology,  must 
pass  away.  God  is  indeed  holy,  hates  what  is 
unholy,  and  is  willing,  beyond  all  earthly  parental 
endurance,  that  his  disobedient  offspring  should,  as 
the  penalty  for  their  sins,  bear  any  misery  by  which 
they  may  be  made  partakers  of  his  holiness.  But 
we  thank  him,  that  both  nature  and  revelation,  with 
redoubling  accord,  declare  that  this  is  the  object  of 
all  suffering. 

Verily,  if  there  be  that  vast  hell  of  omnipotent 
vengeance  which  has  been  so  long  and  vehemently 
pretended,  in  none  of  our  researches  into  this  fair 
and  glorious  universe  have  we  found  the  door. 
We  have,  in  no  astronomic  journeyings  of  our 


EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER.        101 

mind,  reached  the  entrance,  nor  dug  down  to  the 
springs  of  mischief  and  divine  hate  beneath.  As 
the  dark,  repulsive  hue  in  which  the  Chinese,  on 
their  maps  of  the  globe,  used  to  paint  all  save  their 
own  Celestial  Empire,  has  fled  before  the  light  of 
knowledge ;  so  that  local  hell,  which  has  been 
made  the  hemisphere  of  God's  creation,  is  vanish 
ing  away.  Night  itself,  which  seems  to  divide  the 
dominion  of  the  universe  with  day,  turns  out  to  be 
but  a  little  shadowy  cone,  revolving  round  each 
globe  to  wrap  its  inhabitants  in  needful  and  mer 
ciful  slumber;  while  the  vast  universe  is  full  of 
light,  presenting  but  a  material  emblem  of  the  im 
mense  goodness  of  God. 

All  this  is  but  a  parallelism  between  nature  and 
revelation.  His  anger  endureth  but  a  moment: 
his  loving-kindness  is  for  ever.  Christianity  only 
lifts  up  and  carries  on  this  strengthening  natural 
conviction  of  our  Creator's  goodness.  The  Lord's 
Supper,  as  the  great  peculiar  symbol  of  the  spiri 
tual  fact,  especially  tells  us  that  our  Father  is  pure, 
essential  love,  in  long-suffering  and  willingness  to 
forgive.  Nothing  can  refute  its  witness,  that,  when 
he  chastens,  it  is  still  love,  not  hatred,  that  wields 
the  scourge ;  and  that  his  wrath  to  the  wicked  is 
but  his  kindness  for  their  case.  The  gospel  surely 
declares  an  unceasing,  indissoluble  connection  be 
tween  wrong-doing  and  wretchedness  ;  affirms  the 
woe  of  the  wicked  as  a  class,  but  not  —  no,  never  \ 
—  the  anguish  of  any  one  individual  soul  as  infinite 


102  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

or  endless;  far  less  that  boundless  agony  of  mil 
lions,  based  by  interpreters  of  Christ  on  a  monstrous 
perversion  and  exaggeration  of  his  words.  So  alone 
it  corresponds  to  that  universe  of  God,  in  which  is 
no  atom  or  crevice  without  a  living  creature  that 
experiences  his  good-will.  This  is  the  great  idea 
in  God's  works  and  word,  having  its  finest  token 
and  emblematic  spiritual  culmination  in  the  Lord's 
Supper. 

But,  as  eating  the  Lord's  Supper  is  a  recognition 
of  this  divine  love,  it  is,  too,  a  corresponding  ex 
pression  of  our  own  love.  It  should  be  regarded 
and  observed  in  all  the  largeness  and  liberality  of 
this  idea.  It  was  not  meant  by  Christ,  as  it  has 
been  often  made  by  man,  to  be  a  subtle,  tormenting 
test,  on  minor  points,  of  formal  custom  or  intellec 
tual  opinion.  Wonderful  and  wicked  transformation 
of  this  charitable  board  into  a  severe  confessional, 
an  inquisitorial  rack,  or  the  platform  of  any  creed 
less  broad  than  faith  and  love  to  him !  He  that  has, 
and  would  signify,  this  faith  and  love,  according  to 
Christ's  own  standard,  is  qualified  for  his  commu 
nion.  He  may,  in  many  things,  dissent  from  us  or 
from  others  in  his  thought,  and  may  be  mistaken 
in  his  thinking.  He  may,  in  much  of  his  life,  fall 
short  of  God's  glory.  Who  in  nothing  is  mistaken, 
or  falls  short  ? 

But  all  the  troublesome  theories,  arising  or  im 
posed,  are,  in  the  light  of  the  new  covenant  itself, 
brought  down  to  one  which  may  indeed  be  sharper 


EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER.        103 

and  stricter  than  any,  or  all  beside,  and  to  which 
those  otherwise  most  rigid  may  give  place.  Do  we 
love  Jesus  Christ  ?  Does  our  heart  flow  to  him  as 
the  chief  among  ten  thousand  ?  and  is  he  the  one, 
altogether  lovely,  we  have  wanted  to  fill  our  soul  ? 
The  desire  of  all  nations,  do  we  find  him  also  the 
only  perfect  satisfaction  ever  embodied  for  even  a 
single  and  solitary  heart?  When  made  known 
to  us,  does  he  take  in  us  the  place  of  honor  and 
principal  regard,  that,  to  him,  of  all  that  ever 
breathed,  belongs  ?  Does  this  prince  sit  with  his 
Father,  king  on  the  inner  throne,  while  all  usurpers 
of  the  sceptre  retire  ?  Then,  indeed,  is  there  a 
place  for  us  at  his  table.  Our  right  is  there.  No 
man,  no  banded  ecclesiastic  sway,  no  sectarian  or 
papal  excommunication,  can  dispossess  us  of  our 
seat.  The  absolute  Disposer  assigns  it.  Virtually, 
potentially,  it  is  ours,  whether  in  actual  allowance 
or  not.  Ours,  at  least,  shall  be  a  place  at  the  table, 
now  but  in  vision,  which  is  above !  Eating  the 
Supper  is  the  sign  of  our  love,  as  sacred  in  the 
thought  of  the  Most  High  as  it  is  blessed  to  our 
own  souls.  But  if  we  have  no  such  emotion ;  if 
our  being  is  not  thus  sensitive  to  the  excellency 
and  beauty  of  Jesus ;  if  he  does  not  stir  our  wish 
and  emulation  with  all  that  is  heavenly,  and  for  all 
that  is  humane  in  his  character  and  life,  then,  what 
ever  we  may  do,  or  outwardly  appear  to  do,  we  do 
not  eat  his  Supper.  We  perform  only  a  feigned 
and  hollow  service. 


104  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

Furthermore,  to  eat  the  Lord's  Supper,  according 
to  the  universal  law  of  exercise,  is  to  increase  the 
love  it  expresses.  This  law  holds  peculiarly  of  all 
true  affections  and  right  exertions.  The  waxing 
love  for  Christ  is  its  highest  illustration.  It  espe 
cially  is  a  magnet  whose  use  enhances  its  power. 
It  is  true  our  love  for  Christ  is  a  spiritual  love  for  a 
now  spiritual  being,  whom  our  fleshly  eye  never 
saw,  or  mortal  ear  heard.  It  is  true  we  can  cherish 
that  love  by  pure  meditation  in  the  silence  and 
secresy  of  the  soul,  and  magnify  it  in  our  daily  con 
versation  and  life.  It  is  true  that  its  finest  shape 
is  action ;  its  strongest  auxiliary,  real  imitation  of 
Jesus.  But,  as  we  are  creatures,  not  of  conscience 
and  will  only,  but  of  sentiment  and  imagination, 
one  important  method  in  which  our  love  to  him 
may  thrive  will  be  by  uttering,  and  breathing  it  out 
also,  in  the  way  himself  opened  and  hallowed  for 
its  channel,  till  it  swell  with  the  mingled  sympa 
thies  of  all  Christian  ages  and  lands,  and  receive 
mysterious  contributions  from  that  heavenly  country 
which  is  not  cut  off  from  ours,  save  by  ascent  and 
continuation,  as  the  mountain  is  from  the  plain. 
As  the  love  of  God  is  encouraged  in  us,  not  only 
by  certain  deeds  which  show  it  forth,  but  by  all 
our  worship,  by  every  grateful  prayer  and  loud 
hosanna,  —  as  love  among  friends  needs  a  like 
renewing,  and  is  refreshed  by  every  greeting  and 
look  and  pressure  that  passes  between  their  tongues 
and  eyes  and  hands ;  so  is  it  in  this  affectionate, 


EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER.  105 

reciprocal  salutation  of  the  Saviour  and  his  disci 
ples.  For  the  supper,  according  to  Christ's  mind, 
in  the  New  Testament  teaching  and  apostolic  prac 
tice,  is  not  only  commemoration  of  him,  but  also 
communion  with  him.  So  the  love  of  the  Master 
and  the  follower  is  no  antiquarian  tradition.  Truly, 
of  what  worth  is  love,  if  not  personal  ?  This  Chris 
tian  love  passes  and  repasses,  with  God's  own  spi 
rit,  the  great  conveyancer  of  all  good  things,  like 
a  dove  through  the  air,  and  knits  those  who  share  it 
together.  The  feeling  below  tends  to  rise  to  the 
level  of  that  from  which  it  runs,  on  high. 

Eating  the  Lord's  Supper,  thus  expressing  and 
increasing  our  love,  furthermore  supplies  the  loftiest 
and  most  efficient  motive  to  all  duty.  All  our  life, 
all  earnest  labor,  flows  out  of  our  heart.  We  give 
all,  by  natural  and  inevitable  consequence,  to  him 
to  whom  we  have  first  given  our  heart.  Eating  the 
Lord's  Supper,  therefore,  while  it  may  seem  merely 
formal,  is  of  all  things  most  practical.  It  does  not 
end  as  an  exhibition  or  ceremony.  It  nerves  to 
toil,  endurance,  and  sacrifice,  for  the  sake  of  God 
and  humanity.  It  has  been  the  spring  of  a  thou 
sand  currents  of  philanthropy  and  holy  zeal,  in  all 
directions  crossing  the  earth,  and  bearing  more 
benefit  than  its  rivers  and  streams.  It  has  lighted 
and  borne  on  the  torch  for  every  forlorn  hope  of 
the  world.  It  has  prompted  numberless  offerings 
of  benevolence.  No  barren  tree  has  it  been,  taking 
room  here  in  the  earthly  vineyard  only  to  cumber 


106  EATING    THE    LORD'S    SUPPER. 

the  ground;  no  fountain  long  since  strangled,  or 
ancient  channel  now  dry  and  stony;  no  obsolete 
form,  quenched  fire,  or  monotony  of  unmeaning 
words;  but,  like  a  living  figure  travelling  down 
from  remote  antiquity,  it  still  moves  and  acts  and 
inspires  the  souls  of  men.  Whoever,  in  a  conceit 
of  superior  wisdom,  may  neglect  or  oppose  it,  it 
will  not  be  destroyed,  or  become  disused ;  but,  with 
its  associations  and  suggestions,  will  continue,  the 
clearest  material  medium,  held  out  in  this  lower 
air,  of  the  human  and  divine,  to  blend  invisible 
spirits  together,  and  fulfil  precious  offices  of  con 
soling  sorrow  and  urging  to  fidelity.  It  is  indeed 
an  embodiment  of  the  peculiar  character  of  our 
religion,  as  distinguished  from  other  religions,  in 
not  being  a  system  of  abstract  doctrines  and  pre 
cepts,  that  can  be  put  into  words ;  but  the  life  of  a 
divine  person,  in  vital  communication  with  his 
votaries.  In  this  characteristic  is  the  everlasting 
strength  and  success  of  the  gospel. 

In  fine,  the  Lord's  Supper,  while  thus  empower 
ing  for  earthly  duty,  prepares  us  for  scenes  beyond 
this  passing  world.  Its  shadow  falls  two  ways, 
back  into  time,  and  forth  into  eternity.  It  wings 
the  soul  to  fly  in  another  atmosphere,  beyond  this 
grosser  air.  So  much  Jesus  himself  intimates  to 
his  disciples,  in  referring  to  a  future  celebration  of 
the  communion  in  his  Father's  kingdom,  where  the 
desires  of  the  Christian  heart  may  find  fitting  scope 
and  abundant  food  for  evermore.  Here  those  de- 


EATIXG  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER.         107 

sires  are  developed  in  some  degree,  and  clothe 
themselves  in  many  a  word  and  deed  of  blessing. 
But  the  experience  of  every  regenerate  soul  would 
show  how  much  is  inwardly  nursed  in  the  cham 
bers  of  the  spirit,  which  cannot  yet  be  outwardly 
proved,  or  make  for  itself  any  recognizable  expres 
sion.  It  is  preparation  for  the  world  to  come.  It 
is  making  ready  for  the  second  coming  of  Christ. 
On  this  principle  of  preparation  for  future  emer 
gencies,  we  proceed  in  every  part  of  our  existence. 
Before  our  eyes  are  familiar  instances,  in  the  seed 
sown  in  spring-days  for  a  distant  harvest;  the  house 
reared  in  summer  for  the  winter  ice  and  snow ;  the 
ship  built  in  mild  weather  to  breast  the  fiercest 
gale  that  ever  blew  over  the  waves ;  and  the  fort, 
sleeping  in  peaceful  sunshine,  with  the  swallows 
flying  and  nestling  under  its  silent  eaves,  storing 
its  thunder  for  possible  invasion  and  assault. 

Shall  we  extend  this  principle  of  preparation  in 
all  that  is  palpably  useful,  no  further,  but  let  it  stop 
with  the  brink  of  the  grave  ?  Taking  but  a  step  in 
our  little  footing  in  this  world,  shall  we  not  receive 
that  staff  of  the  bread  of  life  which  helps  us  to  take 
the  next,  the  second  step,  beyond  the  grave  ?  Shall 
we  not  build  for  heaven,  nor  provide  for  fruit  and 
harvesting  on  the  eternal  shore,  nor  guard  against 
the  peril  and  trouble  threatened  as  the  woful  wel 
come  of  the  wicked  in  their  onward  path  ?  Truly 
we  will  employ  every  opportunity  and  means  to 
cultivate  the  inclinations  that,  in  a  better  region, 


108         EATING  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

may  be  met  and  fulfilled.  While  we  eat  and  drink 
to  be  strengthened  for  a  journey,  —  that  we  may 
have  vigor  for  the  last  journey  to  a  long  home,  we 
will  eat  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Ah !  in  its  true  sense  and  meaning,  both  for 
present  support  and  coming  exigencies,  we  need 
the  Lord's  Supper.  All  the  ministrations  of  this 
world  cannot  satisfy  our  appetite,  that  immortal 
hunger  and  thirst  with  which  God  has  made  our 
souls  to  be  hungry  and  thirsty.  What  indeed  are 
we  but  creatures  of  aspiration,  and,  in  the  beautiful 
phrase  of  prophecy,  prisoners  of  hope?  This  dis 
content  with  ourselves,  and  with  every  thing  about 
us,  is  our  dignity.  This  pressing  on  to  something 
purer  is  our  glory.  All  that  has  been,  and  all  that 
is,  in  human  character  and  doings,  how  imperfect 
and  unsatisfactory !  Looking  at  the  facts  of  history, 
or  at  the  state  of  our  own  hearts,  we  blush  and 
despair.  But,  looking  at  our  capacities  and  expec 
tations  in  the  b'ght  of  God's  countenance,  in  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ,  we  take  courage.  The  Lord's 
Supper  is  the  sustenance  of  that  striving  after  eter 
nal  life,  — 

"  Which  away, 
We  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay." 

The  reason  of  its  hold  on  the  heart  is,  that  it  meets 
these  aspirations ;  and  the  objection,  that  it  refers 
to  no  utility  of  the  day,  is  its  recommendation.  The 
last  message  and  lesson  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is 


EATING    THE    LORD5S    SUPPER.  109 

aspiration.  Quickened  by  his  body  and  blood,  our 
grovelling  nature  soars  as  on  pinions.  When  we 
trusted  to  bear  ourselves  on  by  our  own  hand  and 
will,  our  motion  was  slow ;  but  catching,  through 
our  Lord's  prayer  and  pain,  the  breath  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  we  speed  on  our  way,  as  the  vessel  that  has 
been  dragged,  or  has  floated  and  drifted  heavily 
down  the  narrow  inland  frith,  unfurls  her  sails  to 
the  ocean-breeze.  Blow,  O  thou  Spirit  of  God! 
through  thy  Son,  on  our  souls,  and  bear  us  along 
to  our  blessed  destiny. 


10 


110 


DISCOURSE  VII. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  REVOLUTION. 

Luke  ii.  34.  —  THIS  CHILD  is  SET  FOR  THE  FALL  AND  RISING  AGAIN 

OF   MANY   IN   ISRAEL. 

THIS  bold  prediction  was  uttered  by  an  old  man, 
ready  to  die,  over  that  feeblest  of  earthly  things,  an 
infant,  of  a  month  old,  just  able  to  be  borne  to  the 
temple,  for  the  usual  consecration,  by  the  Jews,  of 
their  sons  to  the  Lord.  It  was  a  prediction  of  a 
new  power,  born  in  Jesus  Christ,  to  put  down  and 
raise  up,  in  a  world  morally  disordered  and  out  of 
joint ;  till,  by  sinking  wrong  and  lifting  right,  a 
more  just  and  beneficent  order  might  be  esta 
blished.  It  was  the  pre-announcement  of  a  revo 
lution  so  grand  as  to  contain  all  other  revolutions, 
for  justice  and  good,  in  its  own  source.  Among 
the  ways  in  which  Christianity  took  body  and  form 
on  earth,  this  master-revolution,  or  falling  and 
rising,  was  one. 

Could  we  transport  ourselves  back  to  the  pro 
phet's  time,  and  be  imbued  with  all  its  prevailing 
notions  and  prepossessions,  with  the  public  opinion 
of  its  privileged  classes,  save  only  one  obscure  hope 


THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION.  Ill 

in  the  common  heart,  the  prophecy  might  seem 
absurdly  audacious.  But,  after  thirty  years  shed 
their  sunshine  and  rain  on  his  tomb,  there  com 
menced  a  wonderful  fulfilment,  which  has  never 
ceased  going  on,  of  what  he  foretold. 

Many,  said  the  seer,  should  fall,  and  many  should 
rise.  Precisely  so  it  was.  Priest  and  high  priest, 
with  knife  and  sacrifice,  with  robe  and  censer,  fell 
from  their  high  estate  before  the  growth  of  that 
child.  Levites,  in  all  their  numerous  ranks,  that 
opened  and  guarded  the  temple-door,  sang  in  the 
temple-service,  or  gave  their  official  dignity  to 
the  thirty -five  sacred  cities  they  inhabited,  fell  from 
their  universal  command  of  the  minds  and  con 
sciences  of  their  countrymen.  Pharisees,  with  their 
affectation  of  holiness,  and  Sadducees,  in  their  con- 
.ceit  of  wisdom  and  pride  of  unbelief,  fell  from  their 
aristocracy  of  position  before  the  child  whom  they 
would  scorn  and  persecute  and  crucify.  While 
these  many  fell,  to  make  good  both  parts  of  the 
prophecy,  other  many  rose.  Mean  fishermen,  from 
their  nets  on  the  sea  and  shore  of  Galilee ;  and 
despised  publicans,  from  their  tax-gathering  tables ; 
common  men,  servile  in  Judea  or  plebeian  at 
Rome,  rose  into  ability  and  influence.  Simple 
women,  too,  who  had  desired  only  to  sit  at  their 
lords'  and  teachers'  feet,  rose  into  the  purest  fame, 
and  had  their  names  enshrined  on  the  tablets  of  the 
highest  history,  to  be  read  thankfully  in  enduring 
glory,  long  as  the  world  should  stand  ;  while  Pilate 


112  THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION. 

and  Herod,  and  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  and  Festus 
and  Felix,  —  ay,  and  Caesar  himself,  save  only  in 
that  imperial  title,  common  to  all  the  rulers  of  the 
earth's  mistress,  —  fell,  and  went  down  for  ever. 

But  for  no  merely  personal  fall  or  rising  did  the 
prophet  intend  to  say  that  child  was  born ;  as 
though  his  birth  portended  enmity  against  some, 
or  favor  to  others.  There  could  be  no  partiality  or 
hatred  in  the  design  of  him  who  is  no  respecter 
of  persons,  but  the  God  alike  of  Jew  and  Gentile, 
Indian  and  African.  Jesus  was  set  but  to  oppose 
certain  principles  that  were  wrong,  and  to  coun 
tenance  and  exalt  principles  that  were  right.  Only 
according  as  persons  were  attached  to  one  or  the 
other  set  of  these  principles,  they,  with  the  princi 
ples,  rose  or  fell.  The  notion  of  the  Jews  that 
they  were  the  only  people  of  God ;  the  idea  of  a 
local  deity  limiting  his  regards  to  a  little  province, 
and  neglecting  the  outspread  regions  of  the  globe  ; 
the  bigoted  dogma,  that  there  was  no  salvation  but 
for  the  chosen  tribes,  and  that  the  salvation  itself 
was  but  a  worldly  thing  of  political  triumph  ;  the 
puerile  fancy,  not  yet  banished  from  the  world, 
that  certain  authorized  ancient  forms  were  the 
only  channel  through  which  the  grace  of  God  could 
flow,  or  the  prayers  and  offerings  of  men  be  ac 
cepted  ;  and  the  ambitious  expectation  of  subduing 
the  whole  race  of  mankind  to  the  supreme  control 
of  the  Sanhedrim's  withered  traditions  ;  —  all  these 
things,  all  this  haughtiness  of  spirit,  and  all  this 


THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION.  113 

swollen  pomp  and  lofty  pretension  of  ecclesiastical 
ceremony,  was  doomed  to  fall.  But,  as  they  fell, 
other  things  arose.  -  God's  fatherly  love  for  all  his 
children,  counting  none  naturally  alien  or  disin 
herited  ;  Christ's  teaching  and  death,  and  example 
of  immortality  for  the  redemption  of  all,  of  the 
barbarian  in  his  skins,  and  the  slave  in  his  rags, 
as  well  as  of  the  priestly  scarlet  or  royal  purple ;  the 
duty  of  men  everywhere  to  love  and  serve  one 
another  as  brethren ;  the  spirituality  of  true  wor 
ship,  so  that  God  could  receive  and  bless  it,  though 
it  were  not  rendered  in  Jerusalem  or  on  Mount 
Gerizim  ;  and,  with  all  these  things,  the  consequent 
liberty  they  produce  and  require  for  body  and  soul, 
—  oh,  what  a  rising  of  new  principles  on  the  face 
of  the  earth  was  here !  At  first,  glimmering  but  as 
stars  in  the  east,  dim  on  the  horizon  ;  yet,  through 
clouds  of  ignorance  and  superstition,  they  rose. 
Yea,  for  their  everlasting  embodiment,  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  at  his  appearance,  despised  and  rejected  as 
the  meteor  of  an  hour,  that  would  speedily  shoot 
down  to  be  quenched  in  the  ground,  rose  as  the  sun 
of  righteousness  upon  the  world. 

The  old  ideas,  in  short,  with  those  who  clung  to 
them,  fell ;  the  new  ideas,  with  their  advocates,  rose, 
gained  a  footing,  and  multiplied  adherents.  They 
inoculated  the  best  of  the  Hebrew  blood  itself  into 
their  transmission.  They  ran  through  tribes  and 
nations  with  their  persuasive  eloquence.  They 
wrote  their  meaning  on  the  fresh  mind  of  the  age, 
10* 


114  THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION. 

clearer  than  the  letters  on  Hebrew  parchments  and 
phylacteries.  They  cut  their  rules  in  the  heart, 
deeper  than  the  laws  of  Rome  on  her  brazen  tables. 
Indeed,  the  old  Rome  and  the  old  Jerusalem  fell ; 
and  a  new  Rome  and  a  new  Jerusalem,  of  religion 
and  law,  arose  as  from  under  ground,  out  of  the 
dust  of  the  ancient  decay,  turning  tombs  into  a 
resurrection.  The  ideas,  once  represented  by  a  poor 
man,  who  had  not  so  much  as  the  fox's  hole  or  the 
bird's  nest  where  to  lay  his  head,  at  length  clothed 
themselves  with  authority,  sat  down  on  the  throne 
of  nations,  to  survive  a  thousand  dynasties,  —  truly, 
some  sign  of  an  accomplishing  of  trembling  Si 
meon's  scarce-regarded  prophecy,  when  the  child 
was  taken  from  Mary's  tender  hands  into  his  wasted 
arms  for  a  blessing ! 

But  the  ideas  that  fell,  and  the  ideas  that  rose, 
did  not  fall  or  rise  as  mere  abstractions.  Christ's 
new  principles  were  not  points  of  sight  in  some 
philosopher's  eye,  making  by  their  splendor  a  tem 
porary  stir,  but  having  little  hold  on  the  general 
feeling  of  humanity,  and  no  power  to  change  the 
thought  or  practice  of  the  race.  Pure  ideas  the  per 
ception  of  most  men  is  too  gross  to  appreciate.  So, 
in  the  wisdom  of  God,  Christ  expressed  his  ideas 
in  institutions.  Thus,  again,  some  institutions  fell, 
and  others  rose,  through  the  agency  of  that  child, 
born  in  Bethlehem,  and  carried  up  to  the  capital  of 
the  land  for  circumcision.  Yes,  for  all  his  followers 
the  bloody  rite  itself,  which  he  suffered,  fell ;  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION.  115 

instead  thereof  rose  the  beautiful  symbol  of  baptism 
by  water,  putting  its  soft,  gracious  drops  for  that 
sharp  and  angry  edge.  The  bitter  herbs  fell  from 
the  table  of  the  passover,  and  the  board  of  commu 
nion  rose,  crowned  with  nourishing  bread  and 
strengthening  wine.  The  Israelitish  ritual  fell, 
with  the  temple  where  it  was  celebrated  ;  but  finer 
emblems  of  Heaven's  goodness  and  man's  cleans 
ing  from  sin  arose.  The  narrow  synagogue,  with 
its  hard  prejudices  and  severe  exclusions,  fell ;  the 
Christian  church,  with  open  doors  and  generous 
invitations  of  all  into  her  shepherd's  fold,  arose. 
Pagan  temples,  idolatrous  groves,  chambers  of  vile 
imagery,  altars  of  animal  and  human  sacrifice, 
shrines  of  base  and  evil  passions,  refuges  of  lies, 
habitations  of  cruelty,  with  many  a  high  place  of 
lust  and  monument  of  strife,  fell ;  while  institutions 
of  philanthropy,  asylums  for  the  poor  and  weak  and 
aged,  hospitals  for  the  sick  and  insane,  for  the  blind 
and  deaf  and  dumb,  retreats  for  the  unfortunate, 
the  sinful,  and  to  human  view  ruined,  —  things 
absolutely  undreamed  of  before  Christ,  in  Egypt  or 
Assyria,  —  arose.  Even  the  gaol  itself  has  at  last 
risen,  transformed  from  a  black  hole  in  the  ground, 
or  more  appalling  dungeon  at  the  bottom  of  a  cas 
tle,  into  the  look  of  a  palace,  and  the  health  and 
decency  of  a  human  abode,  retaining  only  the  need 
ful  security  and  strictness  of  treatment,  making  the 
mute  granite  even  of  its  fearful  walls  to  speak  of 
the  hard  manners,  through  that  Nazarene  child 


116  THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION. 

fallen  and  displaced,  and  the  better  customs  risen 
and  built  up.  Such  a  commonwealth  as  this  could 
have  been  founded  in  December  snows,  by  a  hand 
ful  only  of  that  child's  votaries,  and,  in  its  infancy, 
lifted  up  from  the  oppressor's  heel,  by  nothing  but 
the  power  of  freedom  with  which  that  child  has  in 
spired  the  human  soul.  His  invisible  hand,  with  the 
stroke  of  steel  and  the  shoulder's  lift,  has  wrought 
in  every  rising  meeting-house  and  village,  in  every 
school  for  instruction  and  hall  of  liberty  for  debate. 
That  hand,  which  has  smitten  political  and  reli 
gious  tyranny  to  the  ground,  was  not,  like  many  a 
red  and  mighty  hand  in  this  world,  destroyer  only, 
but  architect  also;  and,  to  the  temporary  sword 
it  sent  on  the  earth,  it  adds  the  everlasting  works  of 
peace.  Yet  every  struggle  all  over  the  earth,  for 
just  law  and  true  independence,  draws  nerve  and 
stimulus  from  that  same  hand,  whose  slight,  infan 
tile  pressure  and  gentle  motion  alone  could  be  per 
ceived  at  the  time  of  Simeon's  prophecy,  but  which 
has  since  so  ploughed  up  the  world.  Yet  is  it  still 
mild  and  holy  as  it  is  strong.  To  no  fierce  passions 
or  wanton  rebellions  has  Jesus  Christ  given  rise ; 
but  he  educates  the  nations  for  the  advancing  free 
dom  he  bestows. 

But  beneath  this  ample  outward  theatre  of  sink 
ing  and  ascending  shapes  and  figures  with  which 
he,  beyond  any  other,  has  marvellously  crowded  the 
stage  of  time,  is  that  private  human  heart  which 
shall  survive  all  thrones  and  dominions,  principa- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION.  117 

lities  and  powers,  and  which  is  for  ever  the  field 
and  test  of  the  highest  power.  In  that,  how  much 
has  Christ  made  to  fall  and  to  rise !  How  much 
fear  and  doubt  and  sin,  that,  through  ages  and 
tribes  of  antiquity,  brooded  dark-winged  over  the 
soul  and  eclipsed  the  heaven  of  future  joy  from 
man's  imagination,  have  fallen  before  the  child, 
whose  childhood  God  did  not  let  Herod  extinguish, 
because  he  meant  his  manhood  to  be  the  crown 
and  blessing  of  the  world !  How  much  faith  and 
hope,  and  undying  love  for  undying  objects,  have 
risen  out  of  the  words  which  he  dropped  with 
low  accents  into  the  air  of  Palestine,  when  it  was 
soft  on  the  land,  or  roared  along  the  lake,  but  of 
which,  through  all  change  and  passing  away  of 
heaven  and  earth,  human  memory  will  never  lose 
its  grasp !  What  grossness  of  worship  fell  through 
him,  and  what  purity  rose !  It  were  hard,  indeed, 
to  say  what  we  should  now  have  been,  had  exis 
tence,  in  such  immensely  altered  circumstances, 
been  granted  us,  without  any  thing  having  ever 
fallen  or  risen  through  the  transcendent  virtue  of 
that  born  Redeemer.  Perhaps  heathen  polytheists 
running  to  the  hill-top  or  the  stream,  after  various 
gods,  with  our  offerings;  or  savage  worshippers, 
offering  draughts  of  crimson  gore  to  the  mysterious 
Invisible  Ones ;  or  unnatural  parents,  sending  our 
children  through  the  fire  to  "  Moloch,  horrid  king ; " 
abjectly  creeping  into  caves  and  forests  to  adore 
the  awful  secrecy  of  nature ;.  hiding  in  walled  inte- 


118  THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION. 

rior  recesses  to  perform  ordinances  of  superstition 
and  shame;  or,  at  best,  like  the  more  enlightened 
Athenians,  adding  to  the  pantheon  of  the  prevailing 
theology  one  unknown  God ;  and,  when  the  plea 
sures  and  toils  of  this  earthly  state  should  be  over, 
resigning  ourselves  to  the  thick  darkness  of  that 
death  which  would  have  cast  its  deep  shadow  over 
all  our  life;  as  it  is  said,  it  took  the  Egyptian 
kings  all  their  lives  long  to  make  the  huge  pyramid 
tombs  of  rock  in  which  they  were  at  last  to  lie 
down. 

Thank  God  for  the  difference  of  our  situation! 
Thank  God  for  that  child  of  his,  who  has  loosened 
and  caused  to  fall  so  much  of  that  dead  weight  of 
ignorance  and  vice,  heavy  as  the  fetters  of  the 
grave,  which,  in  the  masses  of  men,  has  dragged 
down  so  many  old  kingdoms  to  destruction ;  and 
who  has  diffused  the  knowledge  and  inspired  the 
virtue  to  which  we  trust  for  our  social,  civil,  human 
deliverance  and  exaltation.  The  world  does  not, 
by  a  great  deal,  through  all  its  ranks  march  in  per 
fect  order  yet;  but  thank  God  for  that  Captain  of 
salvation,  the  great  Leader,  above  all  before  or  since ; 
at  whose  word  of  command  the  mighty  hosts  of 
humanity  are  bending  to  the  line,  and  moving  for 
ward  to  their  slow  but  certain  and  irreversible  vic 
tories. 

So,  in  fine,  the  pivot,  on  which  all  this  rising  or 
falling  is  made  to  turn,  is  character.  The  revolu 
tion  of  character  fundamentally  embraces  every 


THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION.  119 

beneficent  alteration  in  human  fortunes.  The  wrong 
state  of  human  character,  which  Christ  would  rec 
tify,  is  represented  under  various  analogies ;  some 
times  as  sickness  or  insanity  or  as  death,  from 
which  the  mind  is  to  be  healed,  restored,  raised. 
According  to  the  figure  of  falling  or  rising,  it  is  not 
a  native  badness  in  any  desire,  but  a  disproportion, 
which  is  to  be  corrected ;  as,  in  an  unjust  and  evil 
condition  of  a  country,  some  elements  are  uppermost 
that  ought  to  be  depressed,  and  some  kept  under 
that  should  be  exalted.  To  set  all  right,  there  must 
be  a  revolution.  How  great  that  revolution  has 
already  been  in  the  very  idea  of  character!  In  the 
common  worldly  appreciation  when  Christ  came, 
and  too  much  in  the  fact  of  life  and  the  judgment 
of  men  still,  physical  prowess,  strength  of  will,  brute 
courage,  self-esteem,  resentment  of  injuries,  pursuit 
of  one's  own  wealth  and  honor  and  happiness,  have 
been  the  supreme  qualities.  He  would  and  has  put 
them  comparatively  down,  to  elevate  into  their  place 
of  predominance,  meekness,  humility,  patience,  for 
giveness,  disinterestedness,  benevolence,  love  of 
God,  and  preferring  one  another  in  honor.  His 
proposal  is,  indeed,  radical  and  revolutionary.  For 
the  model  of  private  character,  that  is  established 
and  prevails,  will  involve  every  thing  else  on  earth, 
and  give  law  and  order  to  society,  government,  and 
every  department  of  existence.  Like  the  little  pat 
tern  of  perfect  beauty,  after  which  huge  structures 
are  built,  it  will  present  the  lines,  according  to  which 


120  THE    CHRISTIAN    REVOLUTION. 

every  institution  and  relation  must  be  fashioned. 
When  the  leaning  tower  of  the  soul  is  lifted  to  its 
uprightness,  the  whole  vast  building  of  humanity 
will  be  fair  and  straight ;  and  only  by  overturning 
and  overturning  in  the  breast  shall  the  ancient  pro 
phecy  for  the  race  of  men  be  fulfilled. 

Brethren,  has  all  fallen  that  ought  to  fall,  and  all 
risen  that  ought,  through  that  child,  to  rise  in  our 
characters  and  lives?  Has  all  that  is  vain  and 
arrogant  in  our  souls  sunk  with  the  sanctuaries  of 
pagan  error,  and  all  love  of  pleasure  and  selfish 
power  gone  to  the  ground,  with  the  tents  of  barba 
rian  self-indulgence  and  the  classic  structures  of 
polished  vice?  On  the  altered  face  of  the  earth, 
bearing  up  so  many  courts  of  the  Most  High  dedi 
cated  through  Christ,  has  every  good  sentiment  and 
design  risen  with  the  towers  and  spires  ?  Then  is 
old  Simeon's  prophecy,  respecting  the  child  he 
blessed,  for  us  fulfilled. 


121 


DISCOURSE  VIII. 


CHRIST     OUR     PASSOVER. 

1  Cor.  V.  7.  —  FOB  EVEN  CHRIST  OUR  PASSOVEB  13  SACRIFICED 
FOB  US. 

THE  allusion  here  is  to  the  great  religious  celebra 
tion  of  the  Jews,  with  the  historic  events  on  which 
it  was  founded.  After  four  hundred  and  thirty 
years'  captivity  in  Egypt,  as  hewers  of  wood,  draw 
ers  of  water,  and  makers  of  brick  for  the  great 
buildings  of  that  country,  —  the  only  reply  to  their 
groaning  under  their  burdens  being  the  exaction  of 
bricks  without  the  straw  that  had  been  provided  to 
mix  with  the  clay,  or  heat  the  kilns,  or  cover  their 
work  from  the  sun,  —  God  sent  miraculous  judg 
ments  to  constrain  the  oppressor  to  release  these 
poor  Hebrew  slaves  from  the  yoke  of  bondage. 
The  royal  tyrant,  Pharaoh,  would  not,  however, 
yield,  till  the  divine  justice,  sharpening  its  strokes 
upon  his  stiff  obstinacy,  came  in  a  new  visitation, 
in  which  all  the  first-born  of  Egypt  were  slain  by  a 
destroying  angel ;  while  the  Israelites,  having  been 
commanded  to  put  a  mark  of  blood  upon  the  door 
posts  of  their  dwellings,  were  passed  over.  Ever 
11 


122  CHRIST    OUR   PASSOVER. 

after,  they  observed  a  rite,  which  they  called  the 
Passover. 

The  apostle,  writing,  not  for  Jews  alone,  but  for 
all  converts  to  Christianity,  gives  this  title  of  the 
Passover  to  Christ,  to  indicate  the  deliverance  from 
evil  which  he  affords  to  his  disciples.  Well  chosen, 
and  still  universally  applicable,  is  the  illustration. 
For  truly  the  destroying  angel  was  not  only  in  that 
keen  and  sudden  death,  which,  so  long  ago,  went 
through  the  abodes  of  those  tawny  oriental  children 
of  the  sun.  That  destroying  angel,  in  some  shape, 
all  of  woman  born  have  seen.  He  walks  the  road, 
is  present  at  many  an  angle  of  our  journey,  and 
stands  at  the  end  of  every  mortal's  pilgrimage. 
He  sends  pain  and  sickness,  as  couriers  before,  to 
announce  his  coming.  He  leaves  sorrow  behind,  a 
dark  form  issuing  from  the  tomb  he  has  opened, 
to  be  his  representative  and  remembrancer.  He 
harasses  the  mind  with  fear  and  anxiety  about  the 
future,  and  points,  with  his  devouring  sword,  ever 
to  the  dust  whence  man  came,  and  whereunto  he 
must  return. 

Justly  divines  the  apostle,  that  how  to  be  rescued 
from  this  sad  condition  and  ruinous  fate  is  for  all 
men  the  question.  Christ,  he  says,  is  our  passover ; 
that  is,  he  makes  this  destroying  angel  pass  over  us. 
The  blood  of  his  self-sacrifice,  through  which  he 
showed  heaven's  love,  and  from  which  he  rose 
to  prove  man's  immortality,  with  virtue  like  that 
of  the  paschal  lamb,  sprinkled  by  the  Jews  over 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER.  123 

their  portals  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  keeps  off  the 
destroying  angel,  or  makes  him  go  by,  with  all  his 
terror,  from  our  souls. 

I  propose  to  present  some  of  the  shapes  in  which 
this  destroying  angel  appears,  and,  by  Christ  our 
Redeemer,  is  dismissed.  But,  first,  I  must  meet 
one  or  two  objections,  which  the  idea  of  this  dis 
course  may  suggest.  Some  may  think  this  passing 
over,  by  the  destroying  angel,  of  a  part  of  the 
world,  —  that  part,  namely,  visited  by  the  light  and 
salvation  of  the  gospel,  —  seems  partial  and  une 
qual.  To  this  I  can  only  answer,  God  proceeds,  in 
his  revelation,  as  he  does  in  all  his  providence. 
The  problem  of  the  equity  of  his  administration 
among  his  creatures  is  altogether  too  vast  for  our 
solving.  His  own  wisdom  alone  is  the  measure 
of  his  justice.  Many  questions  should  we  have  to 
ask,  without  reaching  any  fundamental  answer, 
before  we  could  fathom  this  infinite  and  amazing 
subject.  We  feel  God's  goodness ;  and,  for  his 
equity,  our  inmost  conviction  and  highest  intuition 
stands  voucher.  We,  moreover,  see  the  evidences 
of  his  truth  and  love  spreading  through  the  uni 
verse  ;  but  we  cannot,  in  the  world  of  actual  circum 
stance  and  fact,  by  our  poor  skill,  free  his  attributes 
from  every  difficulty.  We  might  ask  why  God  has 
made  one  of  his  creatures  an  angel,  and  another  a 
worm ;  why  he  has  caused  one  to  dwell  under  the 
tropic  line,  and  another  at  the  frozen  pole  ;  why  he 
has  ordained  one  to  be  born  of  a  poor,  and  another 


124  CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER. 

of  a  prosperous  parentage ;  why  he  has  bestowed 
such  immense  diversity  of  individual  endowments, 
rocking  genius  and  idiocy  successively  in  the  same 
cradle ;  why,  in  the  same  region,  he  has  appointed 
such  enormous  differences  of  outward  lot ;  why,  for 
thousands  of  years,  he  delayed  discoveries  so  im 
portant  to  darkened  and  suffering  humanity,  such 
as  the  press,  the  compass,  the  bright  sky-marks  of 
a  trackless  voyage,  or  the  ether-breath  under  which 
the  piercing  knife  is  painless.  Enough  that,  at 
length,  we  have  these  passovers  of  the  divine 
mercy.  Enough,  above  all,  that  we  have  in  Christ 
the  chief  passover  of  the  keenest  agonies  of  the 
human  heart. 

But  this  doctrine  of  the  passover,  marvelled  at 
by  the  skeptical,  is  resented  by  the  proud,  fancying 
they  are  unwilling  to  receive  such  gratuity.  They 
would  emancipate  themselves  from  the  miseries 
that  assail  human  life ;  they  would  slay  the  mon 
sters  of  danger,  and  deal  with  the  giant  of  despair, 
for  themselves ;  nor  superfluously  accept  a  heaven 
they  have  not  earned.  Ah!  fine  and  admirable 
presumption  of  equal  terms  and  even-handed  wrest 
ling  with  the  Almighty !  Ah !  poor  pride,  empty 
claim  of  independence,  infatuated  and  false  denial 
of  that  grace  of  God  which  is  the  source  of  all  we 
have  or  enjoy !  When  celestial  goodness  is  at  the 
beginning  and  end  of  every  thing  we  are  or  pos- 
sesg5  —  of  our  first  being  and  every  happy  hour,  — 
of  each  friend,  progenitor,  teacher,  that  has  blessed 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER.  125 

our  days,  —  of  whatever  is  glad  in  experience,  plea 
sant  in  memory,  or  bright  in  hope,  —  of  every 
harvest  from  the  field,  and  every  blessing  of  civili 
zation,  —  arrogance  grave  and  profound,  indeed,  to 
rise  at  last  upon  the  heap  of  providential  benefits, 
and  say  we  will,  unaided,  take  care  of  our  own 
spiritual  and  immortal  interests,  and  want  no  pass- 
over  of  our  transgression  and  woe !  Truly,  we 
should  have  begun  sooner  to  sign  off  and  separate, 
if  we  meant  to  complain  of  the  free  grace  and  un 
merited  favor  of  God.  It  is  too  late.  We  are 
baptized  in  goodness,  and  immersed  in  love,  from 
our  infancy.  For  all  things,  temporal  or  spiritual, 
we  are  beggars,  dependent  on  God.  Without  any 
inconsistency  can  we  accept  his  last  unspeakable 
gift  of  Christ,  the  passover  of  iniquity  and  anguish 
for  our  souls. 

But  it  is  important  to  observe,  that  this  passover 
is  no  contradiction  or  exemption  of  true  morality. 
It  is  no  passover  for  our  exertions  of  virtuous  fide 
lity.  It  only  modifies  the  character  of  our  virtue, 
to  exalt  and  refine  it.  It  makes  it  no  longer  a 
rough  and  haughty  Roman  virtue,  or  a  selfish  and 
partisan  Greek  virtue,  or  a  savage  and  passionate, 
a  Gentile  and  barbarian  virtue ;  but  for  that  show 
of  wisdom  in  will-worship,  which  the  apostle  re 
bukes,  it  substitutes  the  at  once  gentler  and  holier 
virtue  of  that  devotion  to  God,  to  right  and  duty, 
which  Christ  the  passover  inspires. 

Indeed  there  is  nothing  immoral,  or  dangerous  to 
11* 


126  CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER. 

character,  in  the  doctrine  of  the  text.  The  pass- 
over,  at  Christ's  bidding,  of  the  destroying  angel,  is 
for  no  license,  but  for  our  sanctity.  For  the  con 
templation  of  that  sacrifice,  producing  this  passover, 
stirs  affections  in  the  breast  from  which  flow  sweeter 
virtues,  and  more  winning  charms  of  spontaneous 
worth,  than  all  the  self-confidence  of  sages,  and  all 
the  austerities  of  the  stoic.  It  secures  an  excel 
lence  greater  than  our  own  will,  tugging  at  the 
strings  of  its  absolute  resolutions,  ever  attained.  It 
unfolds,  in  the  peculiarities  of  the  Christian  teach 
ing  and  form  of  excellence,  power  to  renew  the  soul 
greater  than  can  be  found  in  any  generalization  of 
the  gospel  into  some  supposed  wider  philosophy. 
Christ,  by  his  submission  our  passover,  begets  from 
the  heart's  gratitude  a  piety,  purity,  and  charity, 
transcending  all  that  the  world  has  known ;  and 
spurs  those  forgiven  and  reconciled  by  him  to 
escape  the  offences,  of  which  he,  above  all,  makes 
them  feel  the  plague  and  sore.  Accordingly,  we 
are  required  to  keep  the  feast,  —  once  of  the  Pass 
over,  but  now  of  his  Supper,  —  not  with  the  old 
leaven  of  malice  and  wickedness,  but  with  the  un 
leavened  bread  of  sincerity  and  truth.  The  refer 
ence  here  is  to  the  fact,  that  the  Jews  were  obliged 
to  run  from  their  Egyptian  tyrants  with  such  haste, 
that  they  had  to  take  their  cakes  without  leaven. 
So,  ever  after,  without  leaven,  with  their  loins  girt, 
sandals  on  their  feet,  and  staves  in  their  hands,  they 
ate  them  in  the  passover.  Even  with  such  haste, 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER.  127 

Christ  our  passover,  by  his  spirit,  stimulates  us  to 
leave  the  bondage  of  our  oppressive  sins. 

Thus,  seeing  the  idea  of  Christ  the  passover,  not 
as  a  mere  figure  of  rhetoric,  but,  beyond  all  objec 
tions,  resting  on  a  foundation  of  eternal  truth,  we 
may  consider  its  practical  applications ;  for  we,  as 
much  as  captive  Jew  or  old  Gentile,  need  the  divine 
passover. 

The  destroying  angel  comes  in  many  ways  to 
close  in  a  struggle  with  our  safety  and  peace.  As 
we  meditate  in  solitude,  or  muse  by  the  wayside,  he 
often  springs  upon  us.  Sometimes,  a  gigantic  spec 
tre  of  doubt,  he  fearfully  overhangs  our  thoughts, 
and  duskily  obscures  our  path.  He  darkly  queries 
with  us,  whether  ah1  these  spiritual  things,  which 
we,  in  our  words  of  fine  discourse  and  illustration, 
make  such  account  of,  are  not  mere  imagination 
and  surmise.  He  questions  with  us,  whether  there 
be  a  God  to  pray  to,  or  a  heaven  to  go  to,  or  any 
permanent  being  in  us  beyond  a  cunning  compo 
sition  of  the  clod  of  the  valley.  And  lo !  as  he 
thus  talks  and  threatens,  our  heart  within  us  be 
comes  dry  and  hollow  before  him.  The  shining 
mansions  above  fade  away  into  mist  and  vacuity  ; 
and  temples  and  closets,  songs  and  supplications, 
turn  to  a  vain  pretence,  or  a  hypocritical  mockery. 
But  Christ  the  passover  comes  through  his  spirit 
to  make  the  heavenly  glory  shine  again  on  the 
world,  and  gleam  through  our  thoughts  by  his 
truth.  He  reconstructs  the  New  Jerusalem  in  our 


128  CHRIST    OUR   PASSOVER. 

vision ;  and  the  brooding  spectre,  like  that  old 
destroying  angel  in  Egypt,  flees,  scared  from  the 
nest  which  the  bringer  of  life  and  immortality  to 
light  wants  for  his  dwelling. 

Again,  in  the  gloomy  and  menacing  shape  of 
remorse,  comes  the  destroying  angel.  He  arrays 
before  us  all  our  wrong-doings  and  omissions  of 
duty.  He  throws  in  our  face  all  the  short-comings 
of  the  past.  He  stings  our  memory  into  the  recol 
lection  of  unworthiness  we  had  forgotten.  He 
shows  the  countenance  of  infinite  Purity,  af 
fronted  with  our  many  corruptions,  and  frowning 
upon  us  in  stern  and  steady  displeasure.  With 
heavy  blows  of  malicious  industry,  he  roughens  the 
path  of  our  approach  to  our  Maker,  and  busily 
blocks  up  every  way  of  expiation  and  prayer.  He 
brings  into  view  the  long,  melancholy  retrospect  of 
harsh  penances  and  bloody  offerings,  by  man,  of  the 
beast  of  the  field,  and  of  his  own  flesh,  in  uncertain 
and  futile  striving  for  a  perfect  atonement  and 
peace.  He  lifts  his  ghostly,  resistless  hand,  to  cast 
us  down  into  hopeless  dejection  over  the  remaining 
sin  that  clings  to  our  nature,  and  into  utter  despair 
of  the  mercy  of  God.  But  Christ  appears  with  his 
look  of  kindness ;  with  his  voice  of  gentleness,  he 
speaks  the  pardoning  love  of  God,  and  the  destroy 
ing  angel's  condemnation  is  silenced ;  while  that 
midnight  blackness  of  supernatural  and  terrifying 
visage,  with  which,  as  of  yore  in  the  land  of  Egypt, 
he  stoops  upon  us,  passes  over. 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER.  129 

In  the  shape  of  a  mourner,  too,  as  well  as  a 
doubter  and  accuser,  comes  the  destroying  angel. 
He  sits  by  the  fireside,  at  the  table,  and  the  grave, 
when  dear  objects  have  gone,  and  raises  a  mise 
rable  cry,  that  all  comfort  and  joy,  and  recipro 
city  of  affection,  are  gone  and  lost  with  them.  He 
suggests  that  the  pleasant  and  happy  days  we  have 
known  shall  come  back  no  more ;  that  the  heart 
shall  thrill  no  more,  as  once  it  did,  with  the  tokens 
of  generous  regard  ;  that  the  bright  scenes  of  exist 
ence  are  all  finally  blotted,  and  its  noble  plans  a 
hopeless,  irrecoverable  wreck.  But,  as  he  thus  goes 
on,  Christ  comes,  and  the  destroying  angel  passes 
over.  The  cross  of  Christ  rises  in  sight ;  and  the 
petition  that  sounds  up  from  it,  sends  back  a  peal 
ing  rebuke  that  scatters  our  despondency.  The 
blood  that  trickles  down  it,  writes,  in  the  signals  of 
death,  the  promises  of  eternity ;  and  puts  upon 
every  thing  pure  and  good  we  have  known,  or  can 
conceive,  the  seal  of  an  endless  duration.  The 
sepulchre  of  Christ  discloses  its  broken  door ;  and, 
through  the  rent  in  that  wall  which  hid  the  ever 
lasting,  we  see  with  him  the  living  host  of  youth 
and  elders,  while  the  destroying  angel  passes  over. 
Now,  grief  may  do  its  worst.  We  are  superior  to 
it,  and  have  got  the  better  of  it.  It  no  more  flies 
in  the  air  above  us.  By  the  Son  of  God,  it  is 
forced  to  raise  us  above  itself.  It  can  lay  waste 
the  earth,  and  commit  havoc  in  the  abodes  of 
men ;  but  all  its  desolations  are  more  than  repaired. 


130 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER. 


It  can  come  into  the  room,  where  is  the  mother 
with  her  babe  on  her  knees,  to  extinguish  that  spark 
of  life  which  has  been  more  to  her  than  the  sun  ; 
and  she  shall  say  it  is  good  in  God  to  let  it 
come  and  do  so ;  for,  to  her  grief,  there  is  a  pass- 
over. 

Oh  !  without  that  passover  to  those  afflicted  and 
bereaved,  in  whom  the  affections  have  to  the  ut 
most  been  cultivated,  what  would  the  world  be  but 
like  the  Lybian  desert,  where  rise  fierce  winds  and 
storms  of  blinding  sand  against  the  traveller,  strug 
gling  on  amid  the  bleaching  bones  of  former  pil 
grims,  who  have  tried  to  journey  that  way  ?  But, 
with  Christ  the  passover,  the  eye  of  faith 

'^Beholds  the  tempest  passing  by, 
Sees  evening  shadows  quickly  fly, 
And  all  serene  in  heaven." 

Every  trouble  loses  power  to  injure  us.  Nay,  night 
itself  is  not  so  dark,  nor  winter  so  hard,  nor  the  gust 
so  heavy,  nor  any  disappointment  so  trying,  nor 
mortal  decline  so  depressing,  because  of  him  who 
makes  the  thunder  of  misfortune  roll  distant,  or 
break  without  harm ;  and  before  whom  all  that 
could  torment  or  drag  down  the  soul  passes  over. 

Christ  our  passover !  Nothing  that  we  dread 
shall  sink  upon  us  now  with  quenching  flood  or 
annihilating  blow.  In  the  bitter  hour  to  our  faith, 
a  visionary  form  of  real  strength  and  glory  shall 
arrive,  and  the  gloomy  messenger  be  displaced,  and 
go  by.  Yea,  when  death  himself  shall  draw  nigh, 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER.  131 

there  will  be  one  nearer  and  stronger  to  ward  his 
strokes.  Before  the  destroying  angel's  office  is 
done  on  the  body,  that  one  will,  by  some  sure 
token,  by  some  speech  to  the  heart,  declare  that 
he,  too,  grim  executioner,  must,  for  the  soul,  pass 
over. 

Christ  is  our  passover,  for  he  presents  God  as  our 
Father.  Now,  no  father  wishes  his  children  to  die ; 
least  of  all,  the  real  Father,  the  Father  of  spirits, 
who  hath  power  to  give  his  children  life.  There 
fore  death,  the  huge  but  hollow  semblance,  must 
pass  over.  Christ  hath  taught  us  that  we  can  love 
God,  and  how  to  love  him.  But  love  is  a  bond 
of  endurance  according  to  all  the  ability  of  both 
its  subject  and  object ;  with  God  it  is  a  bond 
of  immortality.  Therefore  death,  with  his  mere 
masque  and  presumption  of  tyranny,  must  pass 
over.  Christ  hath  taught  us  that  the  outward  ma 
terial  universe,  which  seems  as  a  vast  gulf  and 
immense  whole,  to  devour  and  re-absorb  all  life,  is 
not  the  Infinite  All ;  but  that  God,  a  loving  person, 
a  boundless  will,  is  all  in  all.  So,  what  we  call  the 
universe  shrinks  at  once,  in  a  moment,  within  the 
limits  of  this  divine  conscious  personality,  which 
gives  an  assurance  of  solidity  and  duration  to  the 
free  and  personal  character  of  God's  individual  off 
spring.  Matter  ceases  to  be  all.  Knowledge,  love, 
will,  becomes  all.  The  unbounded  grave  contracts 
its  domain.  The  vast  creation  becomes  but  the 
theatre,  wherein  the  intelligences  which  the  Great 


132 


CHRIST    OUR    PASSOVER. 


Parent  for  ever  inspires  act  out  their  thoughts  and 
affections.  It  becomes  the  abode  of  innumerable 
hosts  of  spirits  within  the  circle  of  the  original  and 
eternal  Spirit,  who  owns,  with  them,  the  filial  and 
indissoluble  tie,  and  makes  all  subservient  to  their 
growth  in  goodness  and  blessedness ;  while  death, 
the  phantom,  passes  over. 


133 


DISCOURSE   IX. 


THE   VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD. 
Heb.  xii.  24.  —  AND  TO  THE  BLOOD  OP  SPRINKLING,  THAT  SPEAKETH 

BETTER  THINGS   THAN   THAT   OF  ABEL. 

THE  quality  of  a  voice  is  here  strangely  attributed 
to  blood.  Abel's  blood;  the  blood  sprinkled  on 
altar,  robe,  and  tabernacle  in  the  Hebrew  worship ; 
and  the  blood  of  Christ  spoke.  Yet,  though  this 
may  at  first  seem  marvellous,  the  figure  is  just  and 
natural.  The  property  of  a  voice  is  to  express  the 
mind.  Whatever,  then,  has  this  same  property 
may  be  called  a  voice ;  and  if  it  have  it  more 
potently,  —  if,  better  than  these  sounding  undula 
tions  of  the  atmosphere,  it  can  bear  a  thought  or  a 
message,  then  it  is,  in  some  sense,  more  perfectly 
a  voice. 

Thus  Abel's  blood  had  a  voice.  He  had  no 
doubt  spoken  with  his  lips,  and  expostulated,  in 
affectionate  remonstrance,  with  his  angry,  assailing 
brother.  But  the  murderer  soon  found  a  way  to 
put  an  end  to  that  fraternal  pleading  in  the  air.  He 
quenched  the  voice  of  Abel's  mouth  in  his  blood, 
no  doubt  monstrously  exulting  that  he  could  effec- 
12 


134  THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD. 

tually  silence  him  thus;  when,  lo!  the  blood,  which 
the  earth  had  been  so  quietly  drinking  up,  began 
itself  to  speak.  It  smote  upon  his  ear,  and  rose  up 
into  God's  ear ;  and  out  of  its  red  stillness  on  the 
ground,  and  its  ascending  steam  to  heaven,  it  rang 
and  tingled  upon  him  like  the  alarm  of  a  pursuer 
and  the  knell  of  doom.  What  did  it  speak  ?  No 
good  or  pleasant  thing,  verily!  It  cried  for  ven 
geance  upon  his  unnatural  and  inhuman  cruelty. 
Its  dreadful  appeal  brought  down,  as  an  echo  of 
his  blow,  the  Almighty  justice  in  a  woful  sentence 
of  retribution.  So,  strong  as  any  prayer  was  the 
voice  of  Abel's  blood. 

But,  says  our  text,  the  blood  of  sprinkling,  too, 
has  a  voice.  The  blood  of  sprinkling  was  the 
crowning  part  of  the  Jewish  sacrificial  worship.  As 
expressive  of  human  feeling,  according  to  our  defi 
nition,  it  cannot  be  better  described  than  as  a  voice. 
Degenerating  at  last  by  use  into  a  monotonous 
voice,  or  perverted  sometimes  into  a  lying  and 
hypocritical  one,  it  was,  in  its  freshness,  neither 
mechanical  nor  false ;  but  a  real  voice,  a  grand  and 
lively  language  between  the  infant  soul  and  its  In- 
pirer.  It  spoke  better  things  than  the  voice  of  Abel's 
blood ;  for  it  spoke  of  no  evil  passions,  violent  deeds, 
or  awful  punishment ;  but  only  of  acts  of  devotion, 
and  penitent,  holy  desires.  It  told  of  hands,  not 
raised  to  slay  or  smite  mankind,  but  lifted  to  adore 
God;  and  of  hearts,  not  swelling  with  envy  or 
flaming  into  wrath,  but  throbbing  only  with  thank- 


THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD.  135 

fulness  and  burning  with  love  for  the  great  Author, 
and  for  every  fellow-creature.  It  was  a  voice,  on 
various  occasions,  of  manifold  meaning ;  not  of  the 
one  idea  so  often  in  dogmatic  creeds  supposed.  It 
declared  remorse  for  sin,  or  a  pure  frame  and  beha 
vior  in  religious  services,  grateful  acknowledgment 
of  the  divine  goodness  or  reconciliation,  atonement 
with  the  divine  spirit,  and  submissive  agreement 
to  the  terms  of  the  divine  law.  Coming  through 
an  appointed  sacrifice,  it  had  the  advantage  of 
being  a  double  voice,  of  heaven  as  well  as  earth ; 
so  responding  on  God's  part  to  man's  worship,  with 
mercy  and  forgiveness,  covenant  and  command. 

Accordingly,  the  voice  of  Christ's  blood,  which 
is  metaphorically  in  the  text  called  the  blood  of 
sprinkling,  pronounced  the  same  wide  volume 
of  meaning.  Beyond  arbitrary  characters  in  the 
letter  of  the  Testament ;  beyond  ordinary  forms  of 
human  speech  and  the  preacher's  tones,  it  spoke 
the  willingness  of  him  who  was  unblemished, 
like  the  Jewish  lamb,  to  bleed  for  no  fault  of  his 
own ;  but,  under  the  shafts  discharged  by  others' 
iniquity,  like  a  dumb  victim,  to  work  out,  far  as 
his  unstained  soul  and  body  could,  the  anguish 
of  their  transgression ;  while  enduring  the  malice 
of  the  immediate  agents  of  his  death,  to  bare  his 
person  to  the  full  blast  and  shock  of  wretchedness 
from  the  fearful  mystery  and  incomprehensible  ne 
cessity  of  the  whole  world's  transgression,  and 
publish,  in  groans  and  dying  sighs,  more  touching 


136       THE  VOICE  OF  CHRIST'S  BLOOD. 

than  any  voice,  though  it  should  fill  the  heavens 
and  spread  over  the  earth,  the  richness  of  a  love, 
not  otherwise  communicable,  desirous,  at  such  ex 
pense,  to  cure  and  wipe  away  the  inveterate  plague 
and  sorrow  of  the  human  soul.  Surely,  this  voice 
of  Christ's  blood,  speaking  so  much  from  him, 
should  from  us  speak  back,  more  than  all,  that  old 
repentance,  gratitude,  and  reconciliation,  which 
were  spoken  in  the  blood  of  tens  of  thousands  of 
lambs  and  firstlings,  poured  out  under  the  knife 
of  the  priests  at  Jerusalem. 

Blood,  which  is  the  life  and  symbol  of  the  spirit, 
and  which  the  Jews  were  forbidden,  under  the  law's 
extreme  penalty,  to  eat,  hath  then  a  voice.  All 
blood,  of  every  kind,  in  some  way  speaks.  It  is 
only  the  peculiar  language  of  Christ's  blood  which 
we  would  discern,  and  which  some  comparisons 
may  perhaps  make  more  clear. 

The  blood  of  our  kindred  speaks  to  us.  Over 
invisible  chords,  it  vibrates  from  and  into  our  very 
heart.  We  never  know,  indeed,  what  eloquence 
and  pathos  may  come  out  of  these  ties  of  blood, 
till,  from  the  vibration  of  their  common  music,  they 
finally  snap.  "Blood  is  blood,"  says  the  old  pro 
verb,  to  signify  how  quick  and  close  we  hear  this 
call.  When  it  is  but  a  call  of  kindly  greeting,  it 
wakens  in  us  a  strange  thrill,  like  nothing  else  we 
can  feel.  When  it  is  a  voice  of  need  and  distress, 
though  from  the  feeblest  solitary  lips  of  some  sepa 
rated  wanderer  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  it 


THE  VOICE  OF  CHRIST'S  BLOOD.       137 

summons  families  to  the  rescue ;  or  it  blows  a  trum 
pet,  and  invites  tribes  to  battle ;  and,  at  the  cry  of 
a  name  on  the  breeze,  or  its  blazonry  on  a  banner, 
the  earth  shakes  with  the  tread  of  gathering  hosts, 
and  human  destinies  are  changed.  When  it  is  the 
dying  tone  of  a  faint  voice,  just  heard  expiring  in 
agony,  it  strikes  sharp  on  the  sense,  and  tugs  at  the 
heart-strings,  as  though  it  would  draw  out  the  roots 
of  our  own  being.  Yes, 

"  E'en  from  the  tomb,  the  voice  of  nature  cries." 

See  the  mother,  with  her  dead  child  in  her  arms, 
or  leaning  over  its  coffin  in  the  lonely,  noiseless 
chamber.  Note  the  singular  bending  and  swaying 
of  her  form,  like  nothing  else  you  behold  in  the 
world.  What  heaves  irregularly  in  her  lungs,  and 
so  agitates  her  frame  with  irrepressible  and  almost 
unmeasured  excitement  ? 

"  She  hears  a  voice  yon  cannot  hear ! " 

the  voice  of  blood,  —  the  voice  of  her  little  one, 
though  its  lips  are  now  cold  and  speechless ;  the 
voice  of  its  former  infantile  wailing,  or,  more  me 
lancholy,  of  its  late  gay  laughter,  coming  up  myste 
riously,  though  there  is  no  sound  or  language, 
through  the  hush  of  the  room,  into  the  inner,  re 
echoing  chamber  of  her  heart. 

The  blood  of  our  fathers  has  a  voice.     It  cries  to 
us  from  the  ground,  where  they  fell  fighting  for  free 
dom,  and  speaks  better  things  than  the  crime  pro- 
12* 


138       THE  VOICE  OF  CHRIST'S  BLOOD. 

claimed  by  the  blood  of  Abel.  Like  an  anthem 
and  chorus  of  many  voices  swelling  in  harmony 
from  the  past,  it  tells  of  patriotism  and  heroic  sur 
render  of  life  for  their  land's  welfare  and  their  chil 
dren's  good. 

But,  beyond  the  private  relations  of  home  or  the 
broader  claims  of  country,  the  voice  of  Christ's 
blood  passes  through  the  world,  the  nobler,  ever 
lasting  strain  of  humanity.  In  his  voice  that  great 
and  universal  strain  first  issued.  From  his  dumb 
mouth  it  was  heard  as  loud  as  from  his  vocal 
tongue.  He  struck  the  supreme,  unparalleled  note 
of  the  common  Father's  equal  and  impartial  good 
ness.  He  affirmed,  in  his  doctrine,  God's  long-suf 
fering  and  readiness  to  pardon ;  and  the  noiseless 
issue  of  his  blood  was  its  perfect  annunciation. 
Truly  it  spoke  better  things  than  the  injuriously 
spilt  and  bitterly  accusing  blood  of  Abel.  It  spoke 
better  things  than  the  blood  which  so  warmly  and 
dearly  runs  in  the  little  channels  of  kindred.  It 
spoke  better  things  than  that  blood  of  race  which 
so  often  declares  itself  in  pride  and  war  and  jea 
lousy.  It  spoke  better  things  than  that  blood,  now 
stirred  to  envy  and  partisan  strife,  about  the  relative 
rights  and  places  of  the  two  great  natural  divisions 
of  the  human  family ;  for,  by  his  gentleness  and  his 
strength,  each  perfect,  Christ  himself  belonged  to 
both  those  divisions.  It  spoke  better  things  than 
our  blood  ever  speaks ;  standing  still  in  indifference, 
curdling  in  dislike,  recoiling  with  antipathy,  and 


THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD.  139 

flowing  only  in  rare  currents  of  generosity  and  mag 
nanimity  ;  for  it  is  the  blood  of  him  who,  in  every 
motion  of  his  veins  and  pulse  of  his  circulation,  as 
well  as  in  the  last  crimson  expiring  hour,  proved 
himself  the  friend  and  Saviour  of  man  and  woman 
and  child  through  all  advancing  generations. 

"  His  blood  is  like  ours,"  shouted  the  insurgent 
peasant,  as  his  own  blood  boiled  with  the  haughty 
feeling  of  new-found  equality,  to  see  the  blood  of 
his  monarch  stream  on  the  scaffold.  Ah !  we  can 
not  say  that,  save  in  some  low  and  partial  sense, 
of  the  blood  of  Christ.  His  blood  was  not  tem 
pered  and  mixed  like  ours.  There  were  in  it  no 
elements  of  heat  or  brooding  spleen,  no  vanity  or 
levity,  no  negligent  dulness  or  variable  humor.  It 
did  not  now  stagnate  and  now  leap,  like  our  moody 
blood.  Therefore,  coursing  in  his  veins  or  running 
from  them,  it  had  a  voice,  moving  and  persuasive, 
which  we  but  seldom  and  distantly,  in  any  utter 
ance  of  ours,  approach. 

Herein  is  the  significance  of  the  voice  of  blood, 
that  it  is  not  the  voice  of  our  will  or  politic  contriv 
ance,  but  the  voice  of  what  is  inmost  in  us ;  of  our 
very  make,  inclining,  and  character ;  of  sentiments 
so  deep  in  their  spring,  or  so  vital  in  their  assimila 
tion,  that  they  burst  out  from  us  in  unconscious, 
spontaneous  power.  How  often,  in  this  voice  of 
our  blood,  which  indicates  our  real  dispositions,  can 
some  selfish  note  be  detected !  Rising  above  this, 
how  commonly  a  domestic  or  clannish  tone  is  the 


140  THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD. 

highest  that  mingles  in  it!  Sometimes  it  may 
attain  to  the  poet's  song,  of  a  feeling  beyond  nar 
row,  local  limits,  embracing  mother-land  and  a 
common  extraction. 

"  Between  let  ocean  roll ; 
Yet  still,  from  either  beach, 
The  voice  of  blood  shall  reach, 
More  audible  than  speech: 
We  are  one." 

But  on  the  ascending  scale,  still  higher,  and  with 
more  comprehensive  sympathy,  the  voice  of  Christ's 
blood  reaches,  in  its  pity,  to  the  Gentile  whom  his 
countrymen  despised ;  to  the  barbarian  whom  the 
classic  Greek  regarded  afar  off  as  an  outcast;  to 
the  slave  whose  color  our  niceness  shrinks  from ;  to 
any  and  all  whom  sin  or  misfortune  may  have 
made  the  offscouring  of  the  earth. 

We  find  thus  a  new  method  for  the  improve 
ment  and  growth  of  our  character,  in  the  idea  of 
our  subject ;  that  it  is  not  only  by  direct  moral  effort 
of  our  own,  or  by  distinct  dogmatic  instruction  of 
others,  that  all  good  principles  and  desires  in  us  are 
to  be  rooted  and  encouraged;  but  by  that  silent 
and  quiet  audience  of  the  spirit,  in  which  we  listen 
to  the  voice  of  Christ's  blood.  Other  voices  are  in 
our  ear ;  but  this  is  without  precedent,  for  grandeur 
and  originality,  in  the  centuries  before,  and  has  no 
equal  in  dignity  and  tenderness  along  all  the  ages 
since.  Through  all  the  tumult  of  earthly  cries  of 
"  Lo,  here  !  or  lo,  there ! "  with  unequalled  sublimity 


THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD.  141 

it  calls  us  to  loftier  toils  and  a  superior  consecration. 
Amid  the  confused  clamor  of  our  own  passions  and 
inclinations,  it  invites  us  to  a  purity  they  would 
never  enjoin  or  seek.  There  is,  indeed,  in  this  dis 
cord  within,  a  voice  of  conscience  speaking ;  one 
fine  key-note  of  all  that  is  good,  the  glory  of  our 
being.  But  its  voice  is,  how  often,  a  voice  of  com 
plaint,  a  cry  of  pain  from  its  having  been  wounded, 
or  the  repeated  order  of  an  indignant  and  outraged 
authority ;  a  querulous  condemnation  of  guilt  and 
threat  of  penalty  for  its  own  violated  bidding.  In 
its  morbid  sensitiveness,  it  is  not  seldom  a  doubtful 
assurance  even  to  those  who  have  striven  to  be 
faithful ;  and  to  the  convicted  sinner,  a  roll  of  cloudy 
thunder  out  of  the  firmament  of  the  soul.  Thank 
God,  that  the  voice  of  our  conscience  is  not  the 
only  voice  from  him  that  we  hear;  that  another 
voice  rises,  forbearing  and  gentle,  out  of  the  blood 
of  sprinkling ;  unambiguously  directs  to  the  path  of 
duty ;  soothes  the  over-anxious,  and  guides  them 
to  repose,  not  on  the  uneasy  bed  of  their  own  self- 
judgment,  but  in  the  rest  of  faith  in  a  Saviour's 
love ;  while  to  those  morally  awakened  from  their 
trespasses,  whom  an  offended  and  opprobrious  con 
science  chases  with  the  torture  of  a  scourge,  or 
stretches  on  a  rack  of  miserable  reflection,  it  pro 
poses,  in  penitence  and  trust,  the  terms  of  gospel 
forgiveness. 

Let  us  listen  to  this  voice  of  Christ's  blood,  speak 
ing  better  things  than  that  of  Abel ;  better  things 


142  THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD. 

than  we  can  hear  from  that  which  runs  or  loiters 
through  our  own  breast,  and,  whether  swift  or  lazy, 
has  ever  some  defect  in  its  calmness,  or  error  in 
its  speed.  Let  us  listen  to  it.  It  is  not  only  low 
and  soft  in  its  offers  of  pardon,  but  waxes  into  the 
blast  of  a  trumpet,  as  it  enjoins  obligations  sublimer 
than  Hebrew  or  heathen  ever  recognized.  It  tells 
us  that  greatness  is  not  in  ambition,  but  in  self- 
sacrifice  ;  that  courage  is  not  in  resentment,  but  in 
meekness ;  and  honor,  not  in  pride,  but  in  humility. 
It  avers  that  Christ's  goodness  was  not,  as  men 
have  supposed,  any  politic  plan  or  wilful  ostentation, 
any  superficial  and  short-lived  thing,  paraded  on 
a  stage  or  exhausted  in  a  scheme,  but  deep  as  the 
vital  principle,  and  incapable  of  being  even  sur 
prised  into  sin.  It  informs  us  that  our  devotion, 
like  his,  should  be  greater  in  its  inarticulateness 
than  in  its  profession;  and  proceed  farther  than 
any  sound  of  proclamation,  as  his  was  like  that  line 
of  God,  which,  without  language,  has  gone  out 
through  air  the  earth,  and  its  words  to  the  end  of 
the  world.  It  assures  us,  that  no  theologic  dog 
matism,  or  sectarian  dooming  of  others,  can  either 
express  or  establish  in  us  his  religion  ;  which,  if  we 
would  accomplish  its  true  design,  must  be  wrought 
into  us,  till  it  speaks  from  the  blood,  is  eloquent  in 
the  eye,  distinct  in  our  face,  clear  in  our  manners, 
and  resounding  in  those  under-tones  from  the  soul, 
to  which  the  vocal  organs  do  but  give  a  body. 
We  thus  see,  in  fine,  how  great  and  deep,  running 


THE    VOICE    OF    CHRIST'S    BLOOD.  143 

beneath  all  distinct  estimate  or  conscious  action, 
into  our  unconscious  nature,  is  the  influence  of 
Christ.  It  is  sometimes  said  to  those  who  greatly 
exalt  the  Saviour,  that  they  create  the  Christ  in 
whom  they  believe.  But,  having  attended  to  these 
messages,  coming  in  the  voice  of  his  blood,  we  can 
reply  that  he,  in  what  is  best,  happiest,  and  most 
hopeful  in  our  souls,  has  rather  created  us;  that 
his  hand  has  been  too  much  upon  our  heart,  to 
mould  it  into  a  nobler  form  and  fill  it  with  a  better 
spirit,  that  we  should  be  able  to  make  any  vain 
glorious  measure  or  complete  critical  judgment  of 
him,  or  that  any  such  measure  should  be  sufficient 
or  such  a  judgment  could  possibly  be  just.  So 
may  we  be  created  anew  in  Christ  Jesus,  till  the 
voice  of  his  blood  become,  in  some  humble  sense, 
the  voice  of  our  own. 


144 


DISCOURSE   X. 


PRESENCE     OF     CHRIST. 
Matt,  xxviii.  20.  —  AND  LO,  i  AM  WITH  YOU  ALWAY,  EVEN  UNTO 

THE   END    OF  THE   WOULD. 

AT  the  close  of  his  visible  career  on  earth,  Christ 
appointed  a  meeting  with  the  eleven  disciples  in  a 
mountain  in  Galilee.  The  text  is  one  of  those  few 
communications  to  them  there,  which  would  seem 
to  derive  a  special  emphasis  from  the  place  and 
circumstances  in  which  they  were  made.  At  this 
his  last  appearance  to  his  followers,  he  declares 
that,  though  about  to  vanish  and  be  thenceforth 
unseen,  he  would  still  be  with  them  even  unto  the 
end  of  the  world.  Whether  by  the  world  here  we 
are  to  understand  the  outward  world,  or  rather  the 
religious  dispensation  which  he  had  instituted,  mat 
ters  little ;  for  that  dispensation  would  last  as  long 
as  the  world  should  last,  and  even  survive  any  de 
luge  of  fire  that  might  destroy  it.  It  is  enough, 
therefore,  if  Christ  were  to  be  with  his  friends 
throughout  the  whole  fortunes  of  his  religion. 
Hardly  any  question  could  be  more  important  to 
the  earnestness  of  our  faith,  and  the  life  of  our 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  145 

affection,  than  whether  it  be  a  past  and  distant,  or 
present  and  active  Redeemer  in  whom  we  confide. 
The  affirmation  of  the  text  may  be  enough  to  settle 
the  question ;  but  I  propose  to  offer  several  views 
and  arguments  by  which  this  point  may,  to  our 
apprehension,  be  made  more  clear. 

First,  the  proposition  of  our  text  is  implied  in 
many  passages,  and  confirmed  by  the  whole  autho 
rity  of  Scripture.  The  intimacy,  which,  under 
various  striking  illustrations,  Christ  avouches  to 
subsist  between  him  and  his  disciples ;  the  oneness 
in  himself  and  in  God,  which  he  supplicates  not 
only  for  those  who  had  personally  known  him, 
but  for  all  who  should  afterward  join  their  com 
pany,  to  compose  and  carry  on  their  association 
upon  earth  ;  his  second  and  spiritual  coming,  which 
he  pre-announces  for  the  time  when  he  should  be 
no  longer  beheld  with  the  eye ;  his  close  connection, 
and  almost  seeming  identity,  with  that  Comforter 
which  he  promised  to  send  into  the  souls  of  his 
friends ;  his  abode  within  them,  in  company  with 
God  himself,  which  he  foretells ;  and  all  the  warm 
expressions  of  conscious  and  mutual  love,  as  exist 
ing  between  them  and  him,  which  are  but  their 
responses  to  his  own  words,  suppose  the  real,  vital 
presence  of  Christ  in  his  church. 

Yet  this  supposition  rests  not  on  words  alone, 
but  on  the  deeds  of  his  miraculous  life  and  charac 
ter.     His  union  with  his  disciples  after  his  disap 
pearance  seems  not  only  in  harmony  with  the  facts 
13 


146  PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

of  his  existence,  but  the  proper  sequel  required  to 
sustain  and  carry  out  those  facts  to  their  legitimate 
results.  His  supernatural  manifestation,  for  the 
conversion  of  Saul,  only  displays  a  power  ever 
latent  in  his  body  among  men.  Other  prophets 
before  him  had  done  particular  supernatural  things ; 
but  he  was  a  supernatural  being,  peculiarly  united 
to  the  Fountain  of  spiritual  energy,  with  all  the 
attributes  of  the  Most  High  playing  freely  through 
him.  The  relation  which  the  Scriptures  intimate 
he  had  with  God  in  the  beginning,  before  the  world 
was,  is  justified  by  all  he  did  and  said  in  the  world. 
For,  with  him,  equally  strong,  backward  or  forward, 
with  pre-existent  or  posthumous  glory,  is  the  na 
tural  reference  of  miracle.  On  the  stage  of  history 
he  stands  apart  from  all  others,  in  an  insulation  of 
majesty  and  excellence,  performing  matchless  won 
ders  of  healing,  bringing  back  to  life,  and  restoring 
the  lost  reason  of  the  mind,  by  which  nearly  all 
prior  Jewish  marvels  are,  in  comparison,  outward 
and  gross,  shorn  of  their  splendor.  Now,  it  is  but 
one  more  operation  of  this  miraculous  force,  which 
was  in  him  and  streamed  from  him,  that  he  should 
be  present  with  his  faithful  followers  through  all 
time.  It  is  no  harder  to  believe  in  this  actual  pre 
sence,  than  in  that  record  of  the  past,  whose  accep 
tance  makes  us  to  be  Christians  at  all.  Nay,  we  can 
only  think  of  it  as  a  thing  simple  and  easy  for  such 
a  one  as  Jesus  Christ  to  be  everywhere  with  those 
whose  life  and  hope  are  so  bound  up  in  him,  that 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  147 

their  main  distinction  is  to  be  called  by  his  name. 
To  those  held  by  such  a  bond,  outward  introduction 
is  but  a  small  and  incidental  circumstance. 

So,  again,  his  presence  in  his  church  is  most 
agreeable  to  the  fact  itself  of  his  mighty  influence. 
There  have  been  influential  men  in  the  world, 
whose  influence  has  spread  over  wide  tracts  of 
space  and  considerable  periods  of  time.  But  there 
is  no  other  influence,  of  genius  or  character,  like 
that  of  Christ ;  so  high  in  quality,  broad  in  extent, 
or  with  such  irresistible  demand  of  continuance. 
No  other  life  has  attracted  the  same  interest  to  its 
events ;  no  other  mind  has  concentrated  equal  re 
gard  upon  its  traits.  Considered  as  an  individual 
by  himself,  or  as  the  founder  of  a  line  and  estab- 
lisher  of  a  kingdom,  he,  who  was  begotten  of  God 
and  without  posterity,  so  far  exceeds  all  other  per 
sons,  all  dynasties  and  successions  of  rulers,  that 
human  presumption  has  rarely  gone  so  far  as  to 
bring  forward  any  one  for  his  rival.  Hundreds  of 
millions  of  men,  foremost  in  intelligence  and  power 
of  their  race,  have  not  only  been  learners  of  his 
truth,  but  have  counted  it  their  highest  aim  to  live 
by  his  law,  and  their  chief  joy  to  ascribe  to  him 
their  salvation.  His  church,  so  far  from  fading  and 
falling,  like  the  institutions  and  empires  which  mor 
tal  potentates  have  set  up,  only  every  day  widens 
and  strengthens  and  multiplies  in  all  climes  and 
tongues  its  triumphs. 

Now,  does  this  wonderful  being  know  nothing  of 


148  PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

all  this  ?  Ignorant  is  he,  insensible  and  retired  far 
away  from  these  deep  and  vast  effects,  with  which 
the  very  earth  is  furrowed,  and  the  souls  of  men 
renewed?  Sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God  above 
to  intercede,  is  he  yet  imperceptive  of  the  course 
and  magnitude  of  his  own  redeeming  work  here 
below?  It  cannot  be.  We  cannot  think  it.  This 
would  be  like  denying  to  him  the  reward,  promised 
to  the  meanest  of  his  followers,  that,  when  they  rest 
from  their  labors,  their  works  shall  follow  them. 
His  works!  They  following  him!  A  following 
grand  indeed !  It  puts  history  into  his  train.  It 
makes  mankind  his  procession.  In  olden  time, 
spoils  and  captives  used  to  be  led  after  successful 
generals  and  great  conquerors,  for  those  military 
exploits,  then  the  principal  ground  of  honor  in  the 
eyes  of  mankind.  But  what  spoils  and  captives 
are  those  that  belong  to  the  Son  of  God  ?  He  may, 
at  least,  as  he  asserted,  be  with  his  disciples  alway, 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world.  Nor  is  there 
aught  in  his  heavenly  condition  to  hinder  this 
earthly  attendance  and  care. 

For,  moreover,  this  presence  of  Christ  with  his 
followers  is  consistent  with  all  rational  ideas  of  the 
laws  of  the  material  and  spiritual  world.  Nothing 
perhaps  but  a  wrong  judgment,  under  the  prejudice 
of  the  senses,  of  these  laws,  would  prevent  any 
one  from  receiving,  with  all  its  consequences,  the 
teaching  of  the  text.  We  naturally  fancy  that  our 
senses  give  us  sufficiently  accurate  and  comprehen- 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  149 

sive  notions  of  the  universe  which  is  about  us ; 
and,  as  we  do  not  see  heaven,  hear  any  of  its 
sounds,  or  associate  palpably  with  any  of  its  inha 
bitants,  we  think  it  must  be  immensely  remote, 
reached  only  by  some  inconceivably  long  journey 
beyond  the  stars.  But  our  senses,  though  adequate 
guides  for  purposes  of  earthly  convenience,  give  us 
only  very  faint  and  imperfect  notions  of  what  is 
real,  or  even  what  is  near,  in  the  creation  of  God. 
We  know,  by  science,  that  the  mightiest  agencies, 
flowing  through  the  atoms  of  matter,  and  most 
capable  to  rend  and  revolutionize  its  masses,  are 
concealed  from  the  senses.  We  know  that  the 
judgments  of  the  senses  are,  by  education,  from 
infancy  to  manhood,  greatly  changed,  and  must  be 
yet  far  from  the  complete  truth  of  things.  We 
know  that  the  senses  of  different  creatures  give 
different  impressions  of  nature.  How  diverse  the 
view  of  some  insects,  with  their  many-sided  organs 
of  vision,  from  the  single  perception  of  a  bird  of 
prey  gazing  down  out  of  the  sky  ;  and  how  far  any 
sensuous  idea  must  fall  short  of  the  depth  and  sub 
stance  of  God's  works !  We  know  that  a  lens 
expands  a  particle  to  a  sphere,  or  brings  down  the 
globes  of  the  solar  system  to  our  eye.  But  the  eye 
itself  is  a  lens ;  and  what  an  altered  instrument  of 
sight  may  higher  beings  have,  and  may  we  possess 
in  future  stages  of  our  existence !  Probably  it 
requires  nothing  but  dropping  the  veil  of  the  body 
to  reveal  to  us  the  city  of  God,  with  the  form  and 
13* 


150  PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

glory  of  the  saints  in  light.  Even  our  departed 
friends,  according  to  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews, 
may  be  ministering  spirits  to  us.  How  much  more 
must  communication  with  this  world  be  the  privi 
lege  of  him  who  was  of  a  spirit  so  exalted  above 
mortals  ;  to  whom  the  laws  of  nature  were  subject; 
whose  coming  and  going  they  never  baulked,  and 
cannot  now  fetter!  The  dwellers  in  the  spiritual 
world  are  doubtless  connected  with  nature  in  all 
her  beauty,  like  ourselves  ;  but  connected  so  much 
more  finely,  intimately,  and  widely  than  we,  that 
we  cannot  determine  their  relation  to  it  by  our 
own.  But  as  one  person,  by  his  voice  and  look, 
is  at  the  same  time  present  through  a  great  com 
pany,  so  more  perfectly  may  it  be  with  them ;  while 
Jesus  Christ  pervades  the  hosts  of  heaven,  and  the 
church  on  earth,  with  his  spirit.  We  sometimes, 
amid  the  glories  of  the  outer  world,  have,  in  our 
rapture,  glancing  conceptions  of  the  possibilities  of 
discernment  and  joy  which  our  own  soul  may  reach 
in  future  stages  of  our  being.  These  conceptions 
we  can  now  take  as  but  shadows  of  what  higher 
existences  already  possess.  But  in  such  a  subject 
we  must  remember,  that,  with  all  our  criticism,  we 
have  no  instruments  or  faculties  to  measure  Christ 
himself.  Apprehended  he  may  be,  but  for  ever 
unmeasured  by  our  minds.  The  man  that  claims 
to  have  compassed  his  proportions  is  a  surveyor 
forgetting  the  length  of  his  chain.  We  may  spiri 
tually  see  and  feel  Christ  in  one  place ;  but  we  know 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  151 

not  in  how  many  other  places  he  may  be.  The 
child  sees  a  rainbow,  seeming  to  set  its  radiant  foot 
down  among  a  clump  of  houses,  or  on  the  top  of  a 
neighboring  hill ;  but,  as  he  goes  to  find  it,  it 
appears  to  move  to  another  spot;  and  he  learns 
at  last,  that,  with  its  manifold  brilliance,  it  fills  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  and  is  wherever  there  is  an 
eye  to  see,  or  a  heart  to  admire  it.  So  it  is  with 
the  presence  of  Christ.  To  us  it  is  immeasurable. 
We  cannot  go  back  of  him,  or  walk  between  him 
and  God.  We  cannot  quite  draw  the  boundary 
line  which  separates  between  him  and  his  Father,  or 
between  him  and  his  followers.  When  we  can  tell 
precisely  whence,  in  space,  comes  the  song  that  cele 
brates  his  praise,  then  we  may  tell  precisely  where 
he  is.  Space  is  not  infinite,  as  is  in  the  vulgar  no 
tion  supposed ;  but  spirit  is  infinite,  and  includes  it. 
In  fine,  the  presence  of  Christ  gives  real  meaning 
to  the  ordinance  of  his  Supper.  He  does  not  invite 
us  to  a  feast  from  which  he  himself  is  absent.  His 
Supper  is  not  an  act  of  commemoration  merely,  but 
of  communion  also.  Strictly,  indeed,  we  cannot 
commemorate  Jesus,  as  those  disciples  did  who  had 
a  knowledge  and  recollection  of  his  person ;  who 
had  seen  his  face,  heard  his  voice,  sat  by  his  side, 
and  gone  along  with  him  in  his  steps.  Mere  com 
memoration  would  have  grown  more  far  and  faint 
continually,  unsupported  by  communion ;  which 
may  last,  in  its  completeness,  through  every  age, 
and  be  the  same  on  eastern  or  western  shores. 


152  PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

Here  is  the  true  doctrine  of  the  real  presence.  It 
is  a  doctrine  not  of  Christ's  body  and  blood  actually 
in  the  bread  and  wine.  We  do  not  so  want  his  body 
and  blood.  Like  his  chief  apostle,  Paul,  and  all  his 
spiritual  followers,  we  know  him  not  after  the  flesh. 
We  want  his  spirit ;  the  conscious,  loving,  saving 
spirit  of  our  Lord.  Nor  let  us  feel  an  objection  in 
the  unfathomable  mystery  of  such  a  relation.  We 
are  embosomed  in  mystery.  On  this  globe,  —  that 
spins  round  its  axis,  and  whirls  round  the  sun,  and, 
with  the  sun,  rolls  round  some  grander  centre, — 
our  physical  state  is  an  insolvable,  bewildering 
mystery.  That  must  be  poor  and  shallow  which 
we  can  fathom  and  comprehend.  It  is  the  recom 
mendation  of  our  doctrine,  that  it  raises  us  above 
the  naturalism  which  some  are  so  fond  of  for  their 
religion,  to  feel  the  working  of  a  supernatural 
power. 

But  the  doctrine  of  the  text  is  not  one  to  be  built 
up  on  our  reasonings,  though  they  may  show  the 
futility  of  all  objections  against  it.  It  is  supported 
by  Christ's  authority;  and,  beyond  all  theoretic 
speculation,  the  words  of  Christ,  in  the  text,  bring 
us  to  practical  conclusions,  most  precious  and  mov 
ing.  By  no  metaphor,  but  in  sober  fact,  he  is  still 
the  Master  of  the  feast,  the  invisible  Head  of  his 
table,  related  to  us  as  truly  as  we  to  him.  He 
responds  to  the  affection  we  cherish.  He  comes  to 
the  earth,  not  on  the  trivial  errands  which  some 
pretended  or  inferior  spirits  discharge,  but  for  the 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  153 

greatest  and  holiest  work  on  the  human  soul.  He 
is  not  unconscious  when,  with  love  and  devotion, 
we  call  his  name.  He  animates  the  whole  society 
of  his  friends  with  his  own  spiritual  power.  While 
alway  with  his  disciples  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world,  he  is  ready  to  welcome  them,  after  death,  to 
the  assembly  and  church  of  the  First-born,  and  par 
take  of  the  tokens  of  communion  with  them  fresh 
and  new  in  the  upper  kingdom.  What  should  we 
infer  from  his  words  of  blessed  promise,  but  some 
thing  beyond  a  doctrine  to  be  believed,  even  a  life 
to  be  lived  in  fellowship  with  him  and  with  God  ? 

But  this  idea  of  Christ's  presence  would  come  to 
us  with  little  intelligibleness  or  impression,  were 
not  even  his  authority  correspondent  to  spiritual 
experience  of  the  fact.  Nor  is  the  reality  of  this 
experience,  attested  as  it  is  through  long  ages,  over 
wide  spaces,  in  the  consciousness  of  multitudes  of 
disciples,  to  be  set  aside  on  account  of  the  difficulty 
of  its  literal  or  logical  statement.  One  thing  is 
certain :  positive  acts,  manifold  achievements  of 
substantial  glory,  are  on  all  sides  adduced  in  proof 
of  the  strength  and  wisdom  and  goodness  drawn 
from  a  living  Redeemer.  To  a  present  Lord,  whom 
they  commune  with,  the  most  heroic  and  patient  of 
men  ascribe  the  power  and  purity  of  their  doing  and 
suffering ;  and  while  no  doubt  rests  on  their  honesty 
or  perceptiveness,  or  on  the  excellence  of  their  ac 
complishments,  it  is  hard  to  see  how  their  testimony 
can  be  ruled  out.  Indeed,  in  the  thing  they  allege, 


154  PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

there  is  nothing  absurd  or  intrinsically  unacceptable 
to  reason.  The  existence  of  a  fountain  of  concealed 
supply,  such  as  they  suppose  in  the  immediate  aid 
of  an  unseen  Saviour,  contradicts  no  law  of  the 
human  mind.  Such  a  thought  may  be  repelled  by 
the  sensual  understanding,  concerning  itself  with 
outward  measurement  of  size  and  color  and  mate 
rial  relation.  Men,  in  whom  this  understanding  is 
prominent,  looking  out  earnestly  and  keenly  on  the 
huge  bend  of  the  earth  and  the  boundless  waves  of 
the  air,  may  gaze  incredulously  back,  with  conde 
scending  pity  or  supercilious  scorn,  upon  the  Chris 
tian  idea.  Insuperable  banks,  gulfs  that  cannot  be 
passed  over,  to  their  view,  rise  and  yawn  between 
the  animated  observer  and  the  disembodied  spirit. 
But  why  should  any  physical,  geographical,  or  as 
tronomical  conception  have  virtue  to  annihilate  or 
privilege  to  precede  an  intuition  of  the  heart  ?  Je 
sus  Christ  himself  shows  the  clearness  of  his  own 
divine  sight,  in  putting  the  proper  and  highest  vision 
of  man  in  the  heart ;  and  with  that  pure  vision 
only  he  himself,  as  well  as  God,  is  seen.  As  spiri 
tual  things  are  spiritually  discerned,  so  spiritually 
alone  can  they  be  judged.  If,  in  the  words  of  a 
noble,  religious  man  and  poet,  we  can  think  it  is 
the  ministry  of  our  departed  friends 


"  To  lend  a  moral  to  the  flower, 

Breathe  wisdom  on  the  wind ; 
To  hold  commune  at  night's  lone  hour 
"With  the  imprisoned  mind;" 


PRESENCE    OF    CHRIST.  155 

surely,  what  we  imagine  of  them  we  may  believe 
and  know  of  the  Christ,  whose  life,  heavenly  on 
earth,  has  awakened  and  sustains  whatever  is 
heavenly  and  holy  in  our  own  souls.  This  is 
something,  the  witness  of  which  we  must  have  in 
ourselves.  There  is  an  evidence  of  Christianity 
additional  to  all  external  or  commonly  considered 
internal  evidences,  one  pillar  of  the  faith  left  to  be 
constructed  in  the  believer's  own  mind.  But,  once 
there  constructed,  it  can  by  no  means  be  over 
thrown  or  gainsaid. 


156 


DISCOURSE  XL 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 
Matt.  xxii.  42.  —  "WHAT  THINK  YE  OF  CHRIST  ? 

So  asks  Jesus  of  the  spiritual  chiefs  of  a  people 
long  looking  out  for  the  Christ,  a  great  deliverer. 
Near  the  close  of  a  career,  illustrated   by  words 
and  works,  that,  with  thousandfold  demonstration, 
proved  him  to  be  that  Christ,  these  magnates  of 
the  church  and  state,  so  far  from  receiving  him  as 
such,  are  meeting  and  plotting  for  his  overthrow. 
Weary  of  their  stubborn  incredulity,  grieving  at 
their  wilful  opposition,  despairing  to  touch  hearts 
so  hard ;  yet  in  compassion,  which  one  at  all  infe 
rior  to  himself  might  have  mixed  with  ironic  and 
indignant  scorn,  for  such  moral  blindness  and  hope 
less  stupor,  he  says,  "  Well,  what  is  your  thought 
of  the  Christ,  that  Redeemer  you  await?     Will 
you  give  me  the  idea  on  which  your  present  con 
duct  is  grounded  ?  "     He  does  not  ask,  "  What  do 
you  think  of  me  ?  "      He  sets  himself  personally 
aside,  and  with  modesty  as   disinterested   as  his 
greatness  was  sublime,  he  asks,  "  What  think  ye 
of  Christ?" 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  157 

To  seize  their  exact  thought,  and  bring  it  to  the 
touchstone  of  truth,  he  inquires  more  particularly, 
Whose  son  should  that  Christ  be  ?  They  say, 
David's.  But  how,  then,  Jesus  proceeds,  does  in 
spired  David  call  him  Lord  ?  a  title  no  father  would 
have  given ;  and  which  specially  a  Jewish  father, 
with  his  incomparably  high  notions  of  paternal  dig 
nity,  in  this  case,  too,  mixed  with  kingly  authority, 
would  never  have  bestowed  on  his  own  son.  They 
are  confounded  into  silence,  as  Jesus  thus  convicts 
them  of  having  a  tow  idea  of  their  own  expected 
Messiah  ;  of  having  themselves,  in  their  very  pride 
of  knowledge,  come  short  of  the  glorious  thought 
that  had  gleamed  on  the  rnind  of  their  prophets, 
and  shone  forth  in  the  poetic  genius  of  their  ances 
tral  countrymen  ;  and  of  putting  a  false  changeling 
of  their  conceit  in  the  place  of  that  predicted  de 
liverer.  With  such  power  he  evolves  the  reason 
why  they  rejected  him,  and  displayed  towards  him 
a  temper  so  ungenerous  in  their  hostile  deeds ; 
because  they  were  recreant  to  the  hope  of  their 
own  nation  ;  because  the  Messiah,  foretold  by  holy 
seers  and  anticipated  by  humble  believers,  had 
faded  out  of  their  view,  and  dwindled  from  a  grand 
manifestation  of  God  into  a  merely  human  crea 
ture  ;  because  thus,  in  their  mean  conclusion,  he 
was  no  mighty  spirit,  gracious  to  bless  and  terrible 
to  purify,  but  transformed  into  the  pattern  of  a 
worldly  reformer,  of  a  political  adventurer  and  sec 
tarian  leader,  to  foster  their  theological  prejudices^ 
14 


158  THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

and  accomplish  a  haughty  tribe's  aristocratic  and 
bigoted  plans.  Jesus  was  not  this.  Jesus  could 
not  do  this.  Thus  we  see  the  force  of  his  inquiry. 
Their  thought  of  Christ  accounted  for  their  conduct 
towards  the  real  Messiah,  expelling  him  to  make 
way  for  a  hollow  semblance  and  vain  usurper  of 
their  imagination.  That  thought  was  the  source 
of  their  disparaging  words  and  evil  deeds.  That 
thought  obscured  his  goodness,  and  eclipsed  from 
their  sight  the  actual  glories  in  the  midst  of  them. 
In  that  thought  they  not  only  sentenced  him,  but, 
still  more,  pronounced  judgment  on  themselves. 

«  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?  "  The  words  of  Jesus 
keep  long.  This  question  has  not  lost  its  original 
emphasis.  The  answer  to  it  will  still  explain  our 
religious  character,  and  furnish  a  test  of  our  mora 
lity.  As  the  artist  is  said  to  put  some  favorite  line 
or  hue  into  his  portrait  or  statue,  by  which  he  him 
self  is  known  in  his  work,  so  our  painting  of  another 
always  pencils  our  own  features.  Our  thought  of 
any  person  is  always  a  sure  criticism  on  ourselves. 
The  unfair  thought  marks  our  littleness ;  stigmatizes 
our  narrowness  ;  in  a  brand  of  shame  on  our  fore 
heads,  publishes  our  iniquity ;  and,  as  with  the 
Pharisees,  is  the  mother  and  nurse  of  all  wrong 
dispositions,  —  of  anger,  in  the  ancient  proverb, 
kicking  against  the  pricks ;  and  of  envy,  in  the 
modern  one,  biting  a  file.  It  gives  birth  to  every 
wicked  desire  that  wounds  and  curses  our  own 
nature ;  as  a  profane  man,  in  the  bursting  plenti- 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  159 

fulness  of  his  blasphemy,  swears  at  himself,  the 
object  of  his  own  fury ;  or,  as  it  is  told,  the  scor 
pion  stings  itself  to  death  with  its  own  poison. 

Our  thought  is  the  thing  all-important.  What, 
then,  do  we  think  of  Christ?  Our  thought  of  him 
is  of  great  moment  to  our  own  welfare.  How 
different  with  the  Pharisees,  if,  honestly  treating 
their  sacred  books  and  dealing  truly  with  their 
own  minds,  they  had  nourished,  not  a  perverse,  but 
a  right  thought !  How  they  would  have  welcomed 
Jesus  as  fulfilling  all  that  Moses  saw,  and  David 
sang,  and  Isaiah  prophesied !  His  blood,  that  was 
on  them,  flowed  only  from  their  iniquitous  thought. 
Our  thought  of  Jesus,  in  our  diverse  circumstances, 
will  no  less,  for  weal  or  woe,  affect  our  character 
and  deportment.  If  we  think  of  him  as  no  display 
of  divinity,  but  a  piece  of  human  nature  simply,  an 
elder  brother  in  Joseph's  and  Mary's  family,  an  ex 
traordinary  man,  with  a  curious  biography,  singular 
fate,  unparalleled  and  unaccountable  repute ;  if  his 
story  is  to  us  only  a  marvellous  picture  of  the  past, 
perhaps  beautiful  to  gaze  at,  but  too  remote  for  an 
immediate  relation  ;  if  the  splendors  of  his  power  to 
our  sight  roll  on  a  distant  track,  as  on  the  highway 
a  stranger's  equipage  rides  coldly  shining  by ;  if  his 
person  be  to  us  nothing  more  than  a  likeness  among 
saints  and  heroes  hanging  on  the  walls  of  history 
or  in  the  chambers  of  memory, —  then,  in  any  or  all 
these  ways,  we  fall  below  the  just  thought  of  Christ 
in  his  asserted  divine  lordship.  Then,  too,  the  con- 


160  THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

sequences  of  this  erroneous  fundamental  thought, 
like  the  vast  and  endless  mistakes  from  an  ill-mea 
sured  base-line,  will  show  themselves,  as  with  the 
Pharisees,  in  the  sin  and  wandering  of  all  our  life. 

Our  disparagement  of  Jesus  is  the  poorest  com 
pliment  to  ourselves.  It  injures  our  own  mind,  and 
is  a  glaring  betrayal  of  ignorance  of  our  own  need. 
One  thing  is  true  to  all  that  is  profoundest  in  hu 
man  experience,  that,  in  our  weakness  and  sorrow 
and  sin,  we  want  no  mere  man  to  save  us.  The 
soul  cannot  put  up  with  such  ineffectual  succor. 
The  case  is  too  serious  for  human  help.  When 
deeply  conscious  of  our  necessity,  we  know  that  no 
earthly  remedy  will  suffice.  That  heart  within  us, 
which  crieth  out  for  the  living  God,  and  yet  so  feebly 
of  itself  can  attain  to  him,  wants  and  can  do  with 
nothing  less  than  the  Son  of  God,  the  Father's 
own  manifestation,  for  its  Saviour.  Guilty,  grieved, 
liable  to  suffering  and  death,  we  crave  a  revealed 
omniscient  care.  We  wistfully  long  after  some 
provision  equal  to  our  peril,  and  are  satisfied  only 
when  we  hear  those  old  words  of  superhuman  sig 
nificance  ring  in  our  ears,  "  The  Lord  said  unto 
my  Lord." 

I  mean  not,  thus  saying,  to  trangress  the  lines  of 
theological  charity.  Whatever  peculiar  view  we 
may  have  of  Christ's  mysterious  nature,  be  our 
speculation  or  metaphysic  analysis  that  of  one  sect 
or  another,  to  be  practically  our  Redeemer  he  must 
be  regarded  as  either  essentially  divine,  or  superna- 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  161 

turally  clothed  with  Divinity ;  and  such  a  judgment 
is  no  dogmatic  interference  with  the  right  of  thought 
or  liberty  of  opinion.  It  is  the  simple  requisition  of 
reason.  So  high  is  the  outcry  of  our  very  nature. 
None  but  a  messenger  from  Heaven  can  soothe  the 
pangs  of  earth.  Our  Pharisaic  refusal  to  put  our 
selves  into  the  hands  of  the  divine  Messiah,  —  our 
idea  that  we  need  nobody  to  attend  to  us,  but  one 
like  ourselves,  and  so  will  let  the  matter  run,  —  is 
like  the  sick  man's  stoutly  protesting  that  there  is 
no  occasion  for  a  physician.  He  is  very  well,  or  will 
be  very  well !  He  will  trust  to  nature  for  assist 
ance  !  Meantime,  in  his  dangerous,  critical  state, 
he  feverishly  consumes,  or  feebly  wastes  his  life  and 
strength  away. 

Brethren,  we  are  not  very  well.  We  know  we 
are  not.  Multitudes  of  us  are  sorely  diseased,  past 
all  healing  of  this  world.  Many  hearts  now  here, 
laid  open,  would  show,  as  verily  they  themselves 
understand,  wounds  that  must  be  medicined  by 
some  balm  in  Gilead,  having  a  quality  to  cure  be 
yond  all  the  specifics  for  mortal  maladies.  Man  is 
not  enough  for  himself.  Man  is  not  enough  for 
man.  None  can  redeem  his  brother.  Our  souls, 
infected  with  the  complaints  of  sin,  so  long  epide 
mic  on  this  earth,  our  bosoms  pierced  and  scarred 
from  many  a  thrust  and  stab  of  excited  passions, 
demand  the  restoring  touch  of  him  who  can  make 
the  soul,  as  he  did  the  body,  sound.  Examine 
yourself,  and  decide  what  your  condition  requires ; 
14* 


162  THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

if  it  be  what  some  wise  fellow-creature,  some  fa 
mous  philosopher,  some  ancient  lauded  sage,  can 
supply ;  or  only  an  Almighty  power,  assuring  itself 
to  you  by  coming  incarnate  to  walk  these  fields  of 
time,  and  leave  behind  for  ever  in  this  lower  air  a 
spirit  of  communion,  to  flow  with  recovery  and  god 
like  strength  into  every  welcoming  breast.  Feeble, 
unworthy  creatures  are  we  before  God.  Yet  have 
we  such  nobility  in  our  need,  that  Emmanuel,  God 
with  us,  alone  can  meet  our  case.  Such  is  our  na 
tive  greatness,  and  such  our  miserable  failure,  that 
so  much  we  require ;  and  so  much  our  Maker  has 
vouchsafed  for  our  rescue.  This  is  the  reading  of 
the  text,  that  only  by  such  a  thought  of  Christ  can 
we  be  saved.  I  enter  not  into  the  disputes,  the  nice 
verbal,  and  often  barren  discriminations  of  sects, 
nor  care  for  the  controversies  of  rival  conflicting 
churches.  I  would  look  only  to  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  New  Testament  teaching. 

Do  any  say,  "  Without  such  lordly  intervention 
of  a  Mediator,  we  will  go  at  once  and  entirely  to 
God  himself  for  aid "  ?  But  whence  springs  our 
thought  of  God,  or  what  is  most  near,  tender,  and 
consoling  in  it,  but  from  this  thought  of  the  real 
and  living  Christ  ?  To  whom  but  Christ  is  it  owing 
that  the  thought  of  God  in  the  human  mind  is  no 
longer  that  of  a  cold,  far-off  Creator  of  the  world,  or 
of  a  manifold  diffused  Spirit  of  the  universe ;  in 
the  heathen  superstition,  contradicting  himself  amid 
the  phenomena  of  his  works ;  or,  like  some  forms 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  163 

of  animated  existence,  parting  from  his  unity  into 
countless  individuals,  and  finding  many  potent  and 
invincible  adversaries  to  his  perfect  sway ;  but  the 
thought  of  one  great,  benignant,  caring  Father,  ever 
watching  over  us,  providentially  numbering  the 
hairs  of  our  heads,  sending  alleviation  to  our  worst 
distresses,  and  offering  for  our  salvation  his  own 
grace.  Herein  is  Christ's  worth,  that  beyond  aught 
beside,  and  as  no  other  can,  he  brings  God  home  to 
the  human  soul. 

Is  not  this  a  benefit  beyond  all  comparing?  Who 
that  is  not  blind,  gazing  within,  has  not  had  revealed 
to  him  a  void,  which  nature,  with  her  vast  beauty, 
cannot  fill ;  nor  friendship,  with  her  assiduity,  co 
ver  ;  nor  pleasure,  with  its  vanity,  hide ;  nor  busi 
ness,  with  its  anxiety,  satisfy ;  yet  which,  unsupplied, 
casts  a  dreadful  shade  over  the  face,  and  wretched 
ness  into  the  fortunes,  of  man ;  but  which,  from  the 
gospel  we  learn,  is  not  mockingly  but  mercifully 
made  so  large  and  insatiable,  because  the  Father 
and  the  Son,  those  grander  occupants,  desire  it  for 
their  dwelling  ?  The  residence  is  fit  for  its  inmate. 
The  temple  is  reared  for  its  deity,  though,  without 
that  deity,  it  is  left  a  horrid  chasm.  What,  then, 
shall  we  think  of  Christ,  but  that  he  is  indeed  the 
Messiah,  come  to  introduce  the  Infinite  One  to  his 
proper  abode  ?  If,  like  the  old  Pharisees,  or  any  of 
their  modern  representatives,  we  think  of  him  as 
one  who  is  going  to  promote  our  selfish  interests, 
to  elevate  our  worldly  position,  to  be  head  of  our 


164  THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

denominational  party,  or  servant  of  our  ecclesias 
tical  schemes,  —  then  we  let  him  down  from  that 
station  of  universal  Master  and  spiritual  Inspirer, 
wherein  alone  is  his  efficient  aid. 

What  do  we  think  of  him  ?  How  many  think 
of  him,  not  so  much  incorrectly,  as  hardly  at  all ! 
How  many  think  abundantly  of  other  things  and 
other  persons,  but  very  little  of  him  who,  of  all 
themes,  furnishes  the  most  noble  for  their  reflection ! 
In  the  very  seat  of  his  honor,  how  many  minds  are 
busied  about  somewhat  else,  and  stray  from  his 
service !  And  when  the  tedious  affair  of  worship 
in  his  name,  that  should  stir  the  roots  of  our  being, 
is  over,  —  oh  !  then  the  great  world  again,  with  all 
its  myriad  spectacles,  revolves  full  in  their  eye,  shut 
ting  him  out  altogether,  leaving  no  controlling  idea 
of  his  goodness  and  purity  to  guide  through  its 
scenes,  or  guard  against  its  temptations.  Is  our 
thought  of  him  earnest  and  continuous,  or  volatile 
among  the  endless  variety  of  outward  objects,  each, 
in  its  turn  and  for  its  little  moment,  coming  to 
absorb  us  ?  Do  we  think  of  him  ?  If  not,  what 
business  have  we  in  his  courts  ?  Our  presence  is 
insolence.  Lo,  he  died  for  us,  and  in  return  only 
asks  of  us  a  thought ;  and  that  not  for  his  sake,  but 
our  own.  No  fanatical  heat  does  he  ask,  no  hermit 
recluseness,  no  ostentatious  raptures,  as  of  devo 
tees  ;  least  of  all,  that  forced  and  wilful,  though  not 
designedly  insincere,  affectation  of  peculiar  love  for 
him,  which  can  only  move  disgust,  but  the  calm 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  165 

and  just,  yet  heart-regenerating  and  life-reforming 
thought. 

He  does  not  forbid  we  should  have  other  subjects 
of  thought,  that  he  may  monopolize  our  medita 
tions.  Of  many  and  various  matters,  in  their  time 
and  proportion,  with  his  smile  and  blessing,  may 
we  think.  But  he  asks  that  we  should  not  post 
pone  and  subordinate  the  great  thought  of  him  to 
inferior  ones,  to  the  glitter  of  society,  the  grati 
fication  of  appetite,  and  the  amusement  of  to 
morrow.  For  thus  we  do  him  not  justice.  Nay,  it 
were  of  little  moment  to  him,  the  meek  and  lowly 
among  men,  and  of  God  glorified.  We  do  not 
justice  to  our  own  souls.  We  practise  an  absurdity 
and  insanity  in  making  the  first  last,  being  oblivious 
of  what  we  should  mostly  remember,  and  preferring 
trifles  to  treasure ;  as  the  idiot  or  stupid  savage 
grasps  at  a  gaudy  toy  or  glass  bead,  as,  for  its 
sparkle,  more  precious  than  silver  and  gold. 

What  do  we  think  of  Christ  ?  This  thought  of 
him  cannot  be  secondary.  He  must  be  Prince 
or  nothing.  On  the  throne  only,  and  not  in  the 
meanest  chair  in  the  soul's  chambers,  can  he  sit, 
though  he  wished  no  place  of  honor  in  the  world. 
Among  the  flowing  multitude  of  our  thoughts,  as 
the  waves  of  the  sea,  what  should  swell  upon  us 
like  his  unearthly  beauty  ?  On  the  wide  field  of  our 
contemplation,  what  should  stand  like  the  mountain 
of  his  exalted  excellence  ?  What  title,  in  the  morn 
ing,  hath  the  sun  to  rise  upon  our  waking,  with  a 


166  THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

majesty  to  vie  with  his  returning  spirit?  When 
should  the  stars  of  evening  come  out  on  their  own 
account  alone,  and  not  as  the  emblem  of  his  celes 
tial  sanctity  ?  As  the  light  shines  clearly,  should  it 
not  be  the  type  of  his  truth ;  and  the  air,  quiet  at 
noontide  or  midnight,  signify  his  peace  ;  and  all  the 
fresh  springing  of  the  year  revive,  in  the  fruit  we 
bring  forth,  his  eternal  promises? 

But,  if  our  thought  of  him  be  superficial  and 
transitory,  in  vain,  in  dedicated  places  and  hours, 
the  show  of  our  regard.  Apathy  will  be  in  the 
brows  that  bend  at  his  shrine,  and  hypocrisy  in  the 
tongues  that  sound  forth  his  praise.  Sunday  will 
be  a  waste,  the  church  a  pretence,  every  sacred 
ordinance  an  affront,  consecrated  temple  and  echo 
ing  tower  but  empty  pomp  and  a  tinkling  cymbal, 
without  the  uplifting  thought  of  him.  The  with 
holding  of  our  heart  in  our  small,  penurious,  earthly 
thought,  will  be  a  stamp  of  falsehood,  as  clear  as 
that  old,  so  fearfully-punished  keeping  back  of  part 
of  the  price  that  belonged  to  his  service. 

Verily,  what  we  think  of  Christ  is  the  question 
of  questions.  The  lofty  burning  thought  of  him 
alone  can  give  the  dignity  of  any  meaning  to  a 
Christian  assembly.  No  incorporation  by  human 
authority,  no  customary  gathering,  no  pleasant 
neighborly  salutation,  can  bring  men  together  truly 
qualified  for  any  act  of  devotion.  Only  the  revering 
thought  of  Christ  in  every  breast  can  bind  all  in 
one  body,  and  that  his  body.  This  will  link  us 


THE    THOUGHT    OF    CHRIST.  167 

in  bonds  that  cannot  be  broken.  This  will  turn  our 
faces  towards  him  in  a  circle  and  ring  of  eternal 
harmony,  of  which  his  attracting  love  shall  be  the 
forming  centre.  It  shall  be  marred  by  no  reluctant 
will,  weakened  by  no  vagrant  attention,  but  com 
plete  with  the  melodies  of  many  worshippers,  in 
a  concord  whose  score  and  measure  our  spirits  will 
compose.  Without  such  unison,  no  outward 
strength  and  prosperity  can  warm  into  any  hear 
tiness  our  association. 

What  do  we  think  of  Christ  ?  It  will  be  a  happy 
day  when  we  can  say,  —  We  think  he  is  God's 
Anointed  and  the  world's  Messiah.  We  think  he 
is  all  of  which  Hebrew  foresight  had  glimpses,  and 
at  which  Pagan  genius  guessed.  We  set  him  in 
no  outer  Gentile  court,  but  give  him  the  room  he 
deserves  in  our  Holy  of  Holies.  We  think  of  him 
not  for  the  instant  of  a  light  and  fugitive  regard, 
with  a  rare  and  cursory  intellectual  glance ;  but  we 
stand  entranced  in  thought  before  this  master-work 
of  heaven-created  loveliness  and  purity,  till  we  are 
changed  into  the  same  glory.  We  think  of  him, 
till,  as  we  trust,  even  into  our  poor  estate  some 
thing  of  his  wisdom  and  righteousness  passes  over. 
We  think  of  him,  till,  like  the  beauty  of  the  world 
copied  in  the  very  rays  that  reveal  it,  his  image  is 
transferred  to  the  heart's  tables  for  our  likeness. 


168 


DISCOURSE   XII. 


LOVE     FOR     CHRIST. 

Eph.  xiii.  19.  —  THAT  YE  MAY  BE  ABLE  TO  KNOW  THE  LOVE  OF 
CHRIST. 

You  will  observe,  in  the  terms  used,  that  this  is 
part  of  a  prayer ;  and  Paul  closes  the  Epistle  with 
a  benediction,  "  Grace  be  with  all  them  that  love 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity ! "  We  have  here 
evidence  that  love  to  Christ  was  understood  by  the 
apostles  and  early  Christians  to  be  not  only  a 
feeling  exercised  towards  him  while  he  was  a  com 
panion  of  men  on  earth,  but  an  essential  and  per 
manent  part  of  his  religion.  For  it  was  enjoined 
after  generations  had  passed  away,  upon  those 
who  had  never  seen  Jesus  in  the  flesh.  Nay,  Paul 
himself,  the  author  of  our  text,  had  never  seen  him 
in  the  flesh,  but  only  in  some  miraculous  or  inspired 
manner. 

But  how  can  we  love  a  being  whom  we  never 
saw,  and  with  whom  we  have  had  in  the  world  no 
actual  intercourse?  I  think  it  may  be  made  to 
appear,  that  personal  intercourse  or  sensible  ac 
quaintance  is  not  the  only  or  chief  way  in  which 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  169 

a  sincere  love  may  be  awakened  in  our  hearts. 
We  have  had  no  personal  intercourse  or  sensible 
acquaintance  with  God.  He  is  for  ever  a  veiled 
being.  We  have  never  met  him  on  the  right  hand 
or  the  left.  Every  living  man,  like  Job,  sees  him  not, 
before  or  behind,  above  or  below.  The  universe,  if 
his  manifestation,  is  also  his  hiding-place;  and  on 
every  side  his  presence  stretches  away  into  an  ingulf 
ing  infinity,  in  which  our  very  thought  is  swallowed 
up  and  lost.  Yet  we  are  commanded  to  love  him 
supremely,  with  heart  and  soul,  with  mind  and 
strength,  more  than  we  love  any  human  being.  So 
far  as  we  are  truly  religious,  we  do  thus  love  him. 
But  how  can  we  do  so  ?  By  means  of  the  impres 
sions  which  are  made  on  us  by  his  disposition  and 
character.  What  we  purely  love  in  any  case,  in 
deed,  is  no  quality  of  outward  appearance,  but  an 
inward  excellence  and  moral  goodness,  which,  being 
perfect  in  God,  claim  for  him  our  perfect  love.  So 
may  we  love  Christ,  because  his  spirit  of  truth  and 
purity,  his  heart  of  tenderness  and  devotion,  is  re 
vealed  to  us.  Love  for  him  is  higher  than  common, 
earthly  affection,  but  violates  no  law  of  the  human 
heart.  True  love  will  never  depend  on  bodily  pre 
sence.  It  grows  in  absence ;  it  lives  on  invisible- 
ness  ;  it  lights  a  mortal  shape  into  immortal  beauty ; 
it  strikes  its  roots,  not  in  our  senses,  but  in  our  me 
ditations  ;  on  gracious  images  it  thrives,  and  circles 
round  holy  ideas ;  —  and,  if  it  have  not  this  angels' 
food  of  imagination  and  finer  breath  of  sentiment, 
15 


170  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

oh,  how  it  fades  and  sinks  amid  the  low  circum 
stances  and  petty  details  of  the  world ! 

I  love  Fenelon,  whom  I  never  saw,  and  even  the 
particular  circumstances  of  whose  life  exist  quite 
dimly  in  my  recollection.     It  is  the  temper  of  the 
man,  more  than  the  events  of  his  earthly  career, 
that  lays  the  generous  spell  on  all  my  faculties.     As 
I  read  his  saintly  pages,  and  am  let  into  the  recesses 
of  his  lowly  and  gentle  soul,  I  feel  drawn  to  him 
with  stronger  cords  than  I  might  be  to  one  whom 
I  should  meet  every  day  in  the  street,  and  closely 
converse  with  about  daily  transactions  of  mutual 
concern.    I  call  to  mind  a  great  and  good  man,  with 
whom  I  was  intimate ;  less,  however,  as  I  now  re 
member,  by  the  strength  of  any  personal  tie,  by  any 
outward  approach  or  free  familiarity,  than  by  a 
friendship  and  brotherhood  of  the  mind,  in  which  I 
revered  and  loved  him,  which  absence  did  not  dimi 
nish,  and  which  still  remains,  though  what  of  him 
was  mortal  is  long  since  but  wasting  ashes.     Very 
unfortunate  must  they  have  been  who  have  had  in 
their  fellowships  no  such  experience.     Indeed,  if  we 
examine  our  feelings,  I  suspect  we  shall  find  that 
our  strongest  love  is  never  a  merely  fondling  and 
caressing  regard,  fixing  on  or  excited  by  the  out 
ward  presence  of  its  object,  and  passing  round  that 
object  to  come  cunningly  back  to  ourselves;  but 
that  it  partakes  largely  of  a  solemn  respect  for  the 
object,  lifts  it  up  into  a  certain  venerableness  when 
near,  and  has  an  eye  to  discern  it,  however  far. 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  171 

t 

So  it  is  .not  the  accident  of  being  cotemporary 
with  Christ  that  drew  affection  to  him,  but  the 
mind  that  was  in  him,  and  flowed  from  him,  whose 
streaming  brightness  the  lapse  of  ages  cannot  lessen 
or  dim.  In  fact,  the  highest  love  was  not  felt 
towards  Christ  during  his  earthly  existence,  but 
after  he  had  gone.  Even  his  own  followers  were 
not  able  fully  to  appreciate  his  divine  worth  while 
he  lived.  He  was  with  them,  but  they  knew  him 
not.  He  came  unto  his  own,  but  they  received  him 
only  partially.  His  light  shone  in  darkness,  and 
was  not  comprehended  by  it.  But  when  their 
heavenly  companion  had  vanished,  and  they  turned 
to  look  on  the  path  they  had  travelled  with  him, 
then  they  saw  his  glory.  Every  incident  started  up 
from  the  wayside  into  new  interest.  Every  word 
he  had  spoken  was  to  them  verity,  every  suggestion 
duty,  every  action  love.  His  whole  existence  became 
a  mount  of  transfiguration  to  the  minds  whose  very 
perceptions  of  spiritual  loveliness  and  beauty  he  had 
first  to -educate;  and,  as  on  the  road  to  Emmaus, 
at  the  end  of  the  journey  their  eyes  were  opened, 
and  they  knew  him,  —  knew  and  loved  him.  How 
could  they  know  but  to  love  ?  Yes,  they  that  for 
sook  him  and  fled  at  the  -time  of  his  betrayal  fol 
lowed  him,  even  unto  bloody  martyrdom,  when  he 
no  longer  existed  as  a  visible  leader  for  them  to 
follow,  but  only  as  a  disembodied,  translated,  and 
immortal  spirit. 

How  came  it  that  his  absence  called  out  their 


172  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

affection  even  more  than  his  presence  ?  It  was  by 
fastening  their  attention  on  what  they  had  before 
but  half  observed,  —  his  intrinsic  greatness.  It  was 
by  assembling  into  one  picture,  so  that  they  could 
see  it  in  its  unity  and  wholeness,  the  proofs  of  his 
disinterested  goodness.  It  was  by  disclosing  the 
divine  meaning  of  instructions,  which,  at  the  time, 
had  fallen  faintly  on  their  ear.  It  was  by  laying 
open  the  grandeur  of  a  self-sacrifice,  which  had 
never  been  written  down  in  the  annals  of  time,  or 
dawned  on  their  own  conceptions.  He  told  them 
it  was  expedient  for  them  that  he  should  go  away ; 
but,  having  retired  in  the  flesh,  he  came  back  as  a 
spirit.  So  was  he  nearer  than  ever,  and  mightier, 
—  yea,  nearer  in  heaven  than  in  Jerusalem  or  Gali 
lee.  So  he  laid  a  more  constraining,  though  ever 
gentle  hand  on  their  hearts,  and  was,  in  some  sense, 
the  Comforter  he  sent. 

Now,  all  these  grounds  of  love  to  an  unseen 
Redeemer  exist  substantially  to  us  as  much  as  to 
them.  We,  therefore,  may  have  as  earnest  and 
revering  an  attachment  to  Jesus  as  they  had. 
Accordingly,  Peter,  writing  his  general  Epistle  to 
the  believing  strangers  scattered  throughout  all 
Asia,  and  discoursing  to  them  of  Christ,  says,— 
"  Whom  having  not  seen,  ye  love."  Ah !  fond,  once 
fickle,  but  now  firm  apostle,  well  mightest  thou  say 
that.  For  thou  thyself  lovedst  thy  Master  better 
when  thou  couldst  no  longer  see  him,  than  thou 
hadst  always  done  when  at  his  side.  Thou  didst 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  173 

deny  him  in  the  body,  but  never,  oh !  never,  after 
that  sacred  form  had  been  laid  in  the  tomb.  Thou 
didst  flee  from  his  fate  in  the  judgment-hall ;  but, 
when  the  cross  had  been  his  portion,  thou  pur- 
suedst  hard  after  him,  till  the  same  cross  was  thine 
own. 

Why  should  not  the  converts  in  Pontus  and  Ga- 
latia,  to  whom  Peter  told  all  that  he  himself  knew 
of  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  love  him  as  Peter  did  ? 
—  seeing  that  the  excellences  of  his  character  had 
no  transitory  relation  to  external  accident,  and  no 
confined  regard  to  any  one  time  or  place  ;  but  were 
the  vital,  universal  elements  of  all  goodness,  to 
awaken  a  throb  in  the  human  breast  in  every 
clime  and  through  every  age.  Why  should  not 
we  love  him  with  sensibility  as  ardent  as  Peter's, 
and  as  overflowing  as  Paul's,  since  he  is  to  us  as 
well  as  to  them  the  model  of  perfectness  and  the 
means  of  salvation  ?  That  we  never  saw  him,  and 
that  no  painter  has  ever  satisfied  us  with  the  like 
ness,  which  through  a  longing  imagination  we 
seek,  avails  not  to  take  away  aught  of  those  holy 
and  desirable  attributes,  which  suffer  nothing  from 
the  decay  of  mortality  and  the  damps  of  the  grave, 
but  rather  gleam  with  new  splendor  out  of  the 
valley  and  shadow  of  death,  and  are  enshrined 
amid  spear  and  rod,  and  thorns  and  hammer  of  the 
trampling  host  upon  Calvary. 

Not  love  without  seeing !  Have  we,  then,  always 
15* 


174  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

loved  our  own  friends  and  kindred  best,  and  most 
worthily,  while  sojourning  with  them  upon  the 
earth  ?  Or  has  not  our  burning  grief  at  their  de 
parture  brought  out  secret  lines  in  their  characters, 
whose  latent  lustre  we  never  saw  in  the  mild,  dis 
guising  light  of  domestic  prosperity  ?  "  Surely," 
said  Jacob,  as  he  awoke  from  his  dream,  "  the  Lord 
is  in  this  place,  and  I  knew  it  not."  Surely,  an 
gels  have  been  our  fellow-travellers,  and  we  knew 
not  how  to  entertain  them  till  they  were  gone. 
And  Christ,  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God,  came 
into  the  world,  and  found  no  one  to  understand 
him,  till  his  pilgrimage  was  over ;  and  the  number 
of  those  that  have  loved  him  has  been  determined 
by  no  nearness  to  the  time  of  his  coming,  but,  by 
distance  itself,  has  been  multiplied  through  every 
age  that  has  rolled  away.  The  call  to  love  him, 
even  with  the  swelling  note  of  the  gospel-trumpet, 
athwart  the  nations  and  down  the  track  of  time, 
has  been  ever  waxing  louder.  If  we  love  him  not 
with  unswerving  loyalty,  we  are  less  excusable  than 
the  fishermen  he  called  from  their  nets,  and  the 
publicans  who  first  sat  at  his  table  ;  for  they  knew 
but  partially  the  claims,  which,  verified  and  in 
creased  through  every  generation,  we  can  no  longer 
conceal  or  dispute. 

I  have  not  presented  these  claims  of  Christ  to 
our  love,  in  connection  with  the  peculiar  doctrines 
of  any  sect,  respecting  his  nature ;  for  I  do  not 
conceive  that  they  are  greatly  implicated  in  deno- 


LOVE    FOR   CHRIST.  175 

minational  controversies.  Believe  that  Christ  is 
the  second  person  in  the  Godhead ;  believe  that  he 
existed  before  the  foundation  of  the  world  ;  believe 
that  he  is  a  highly  exalted  and  divinely  commis 
sioned  man,  —  and  no  one  of  these  suppositions 
can  essentially  abate  or  enhance  the  beauty  and 
loveliness  of  his  character.  That  character  is  the 
sum  of  all  spiritual  excellence,  however  gained ; 
whether  by  direct  emanation  from  the  Deity,  or 
voluntary  obedience  to  the  divine  will  on  earth, 
or  by  archangelic  culture  before  the  morning  stars 
sang  together. 

Volunteer  polemics!  in  a  battle  to  which  the 
Prince  of  peace  has  blown  no  summons,  cease  your 
strife.  The  meek  and  lowly  Son  of  God  is  not 
magnified,  and  cannot  be  shorn  of  his  honor,  by  any 
of  your  conflicting  theories.  The  splendor  round 
his  head  is  enough  to  shine  through  even  your  erro 
neous  interpretations.  Nothing  can  utterly  hide 
from  you  the  halo  of  his  virtue,  but  your  own  sin. 
Your  selfish  and  angry  passions  may,  to  your  sight, 
like  an  earth-born  exhalation  steaming  up  against 
the  day,  bedim  his  glorious  features,  and  cast  into 
cloudy  eclipse  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  You  may 
hotly  maintain  him  to  be  very  God,  and  put  him  to 
an  open  shame.  You  may  sharply  refuse  to  see  in 
him  any  thing  more  than  the  son  of  Mary,  yet  have 
no  touch  of  his  humane  and  humble  spirit.  You 
may  eagerly  contend  that  he  had  glory  with  the  Fa 
ther  literally  before  the  world  was ;  yet,  from  the 


176  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

profound  eternity  in  which  it  shone,  not  a  ray  of 
it  penetrate  into  your  own  breast. 

But  behold  him  as  he  is  and  walks  in  the  gospel; 
mark  his  calmness  amid  persecution ;  consider  his 
silence  to  hostile  accusation;  behold  his  compas 
sionate  bending  over  the  bed  of  sickness  and  the 
bier  of  death ;  see  him  kneel  in  the  bloody  sweat  of 
Gethsemane,  and  himself  drink  the  cup  which  he 
by  prayer  and  power  removed  from  other  lips ;  and 
then  survey  that  last  funeral  procession,  in  which  he 
first  stooped  to  bear  the  cross  of  wicked  judgment 
on  which  he  was  afterwards  to  be  stretched ;  and, 
oh !  you  must  love  him.  All,  of  every  name,  must 
love  him  alike,  with  the  very  same,  the  only  possible 
spiritual  love  with  which  God  has  fashioned  or  ever 
enables  the  human  heart  to  beat.  For  what  parti 
cular  in  the  wonderful  scene,  from  his  manger  on  to 
his  sepulchre,  is  varied  by  a  jot  or  tittle  with  your 
varying  opinions  and  contradictory  schemes?  What 
opinions  or  schemes  could  have  the  gigantic  and 
infinite  force  required  for  such  an  alteration  ?  What 
feature,  from  that  great  moral  creation  of  his  exist 
ence,  can  you  erase  by  your  speculations,  any  more 
than  you  could  the  globe-girdling  chains  of  the 
everlasting  hills  ?  Or  what  element  of  perfection 
can  you,  in  the  search  of  a  transcendent  fancy, 
find,  that  is  not  already  embodied  in  that  figure,  the 
noblest  that  ever  stood  on  earth,  and  reflected  the 
light  of  heaven  ? 

This  one  thing  of  the  love  of  Christ  let  us  rescue 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  177 

from  the  wretched  arena  of  human  strife.  It  can 
with  no  propriety  be  put  on  the  mean  level  of  our 
contending  passions.  There  is  nothing  in  it  that 
properly  belongs  to  theology  or  to  party.  There  is 
nothing  in  it  that  suffers  any  confinement.  What 
ever  is  wise  or  mighty  in  this  world  can  discern 
nothing  in  it  weak  or  unworthy.  It  is  for  us  all, 
manly  and  womanly,  to  give  him  the  heart  of  affec 
tion  in  the  breast,  not  with  any  of  the  tumult  or 
uneasiness  that  disturbs  and  distracts  earthly  pas 
sion,  but  with  the  tranquil  fervor,  with  the  growing 
ardor,  with  the  immovable  devotion,  which  so  lofty 
an  object,  so  fixed  a  constellation  of  moral  bright 
ness,  deserves.  Nay,  it  is  the  great  honor  of  human 
nature  that  it  can  feel  such  love;  nor  is  there  a 
better  test  of  the  real  nobleness  of  any  mind,  than 
the  degree  of  affection  it  may  entertain  for  a  cha 
racter  so  shining  and  spotless,  showing  so  conspi 
cuously  whatever  trait  of  excellence  any  one  may 
especially  delight  in ;  as,  we  are  told,  the  Indian  boy, 
on  hearing  the  missionary's  story,  burst  into  admi 
ration  of  Christ's  unparalleled  courage,  which,  as  the 
only  virtue  he  had  seen  conspicuously  displayed, 
constituted  almost  his  whole  scale  of  morality. 

Peculiar  advantage  indeed  do  we  have  for  such 
love  ;  for,  moreover,  perhaps  no  other  character 
which  has  ever  been  portrayed,  or  has  been  in  our 
experience,  makes  such  a  unity  of  impression. 
Certainly  neither  from  our  own  confused,  unsettled 
character,  nor  from  that  of  those  we  walk  with,  can 


178  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

\ve  gain  any  such  stamp  of  unclouded  and  unshift- 
ing  clearness.  Through  and  overcoming  all  the 
discrepancies,  so  often  mentioned,  in  the  manner 
of  stating  particular  facts  in  the  New  Testament, 
the  character  of  Christ  is  the  consistent  and  uniting 
principle  of  the  whole  narrative.  So  long  as  that 
remains,  by  no  strength  of  all  the  skeptical  hands 
in  the  world  can  the  story  be  rent  asunder.  It  is 
the  harmony  of  the  Gospels.  It  is  a  harmony  that 
should  attune  our  hearts. 

You  admire  the  great  discoverer  who  has  de 
tected  a  law,  or  illustrated  a  kingdom  of  nature,  or 
revealed  a  new  material  world  in  the  heavens ;  and 
some  appear  to  love  splendor  of  intellect  and  genius 
more  than  they  do  the  most  genial  traits  of  char 
acter.  But  Christ,  chief  in  reason  as  well  as  to  the 
heart,  has  brought  to  light  the  world  of  spirits,  and 
disclosed  the  laws  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  You 
weep  at  the  delineations  of  fiction.  But  his  finer 
qualities,  which  no  fiction  can  come  up  to  or  more 
than  remind  us  of,  were  lived  out  through  the 
roughest  reality.  You  are  borne  away  by  some 
noble  sentiment,  which  poetry  has  expressed,  or 
music  awakened,  or  art  engraved,  or  mortal  lips 
have  dropped.  But  the  nobler  sentiment  that  was 
kindled  on  that  brow,  that  beamed  forth  from  that 
eye,  and  flowed  in  those  words  of  him  who  spake 
as  never  man  spake,  —  can  it  ephemerally  pass  and 
leave  you  unmoved?  Go,  then,  to  his  life  once 
more.  Follow  him  through  Samaria  and  Judea. 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  179 

With  him  thread  the  city,  sail  the  sea,  pierce  the 
wilderness,  climb  the  mountain,  watch  in  the  gar 
den,  and  stand,  with  his  mother  and  the  disciple 
whom  he  loved,  before  the  cross;  and  in  his  com 
panionship  you  will  love  him,  and  your  love  of  him 
will  be  the  power  of  salvation  to  your  own  souls. 
For  well  did  he  himself  say,  "  If  ye  love  me,  keep 
my  commandments."  This  is  the  evidence,  this 
will  be  the  effect,  of  love. 

Thank  God,  then,  for  something  to  love ;  some 
thing  that  wore  our  garments,  and  shed  our  tears, 
and  started  with  our  sweat,  and  bowed  with  our 
anguish.  Thank  God  for  something  to  love,  on 
which  we  can  pour  out  and  expend  the  very  trea 
sure  and  fulness  of  our  affection,  as  it  can  rarely, 
if  ever  possibly,  flow  to  aught  we  see  in  the  world ; 
but  on  this  can  flow  the  more  as  it  is  purer,  can  be 
made  pure  and  blessed  by  the  object  on  which  it 
flows,  and  by  that  object  created  in  many  a  cold, 
stony  heart  where  before  it  did  not  exist.  Thank 
God,  we  can  open  the  door  for  one  to  come  in  over 
the  threshold,  better  and  dearer  than  any,  though 
fond  and  preciously  clasped  to  our  bosom,  whom 
the  roof  covers ;  one  who  supplies  what  the  hungry 
heart  in  us  craves,  and  stanches  the  wounds  of 
affection  with  which  the  torn  or  broken  heart  bleeds. 
Thank  God  —  let  us  sinners  thank  him  —  for  one 
who  was  sinless,  though  he  refused  to  be  called 
good;  who  is  willing  to  accept  our  love,  and  to 
return  it  with  his  own  ;  nay,  who  first  loved  us,  that 


180  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

we  might  have  the  privilege  of  loving  him.  Oh ! 
let  us  know  that  love  of  Christ,  of  which  the  apos 
tle  wrote,  and  which,  in  the  beautiful  ambiguity 
and  doubleness  of  the  text,  is  both  his  love  to 
us  and  our  love  to  him.  Let  him  teach  us  humility 
and  penitence.  Let  him  inspire  us  with  peace  and 
holy  joy.  Let  him  give  us  the  water  which  shall 
be  in  us  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlast 
ing  life.  Then  not  in  vain  shall  we  meet  to  worship 
in  his  name.  Not  in  vain  shall  we  thus  meet,  did 
I  say  ?  How  poor  and  weak  the  words !  Not  in 
vain  shall  we  live  this  mortal  life.  For  this  love 
of  Christ  shall  ennoble  our  life  while  we  live,  and 
make  it  immortal  when  we  die. 

For,  in  fine,  pure  love  in  the  soul,  more  than  any 
other  energy  of  our  nature,  works  this  conviction  of 
immortality.  No  intellectual  exercise,  no  study  or 
admiration  of  nature,  no  activity  of  imagination 
or  labor  of  art,  puts  forth  so  earnest  a  demand  to 
endure.  The  appeal  with  which  affection  calls  on 
eternity  for  its  only  date,  and  on  the  other  world 
for  the  sphere  of  its  advancing  fulfilment,  is  but 
true  to  its  own  indissoluble  nature,  and  to  the  pro 
mise  involved  in  all  its  own  sincerity  and  holiness. 
Especially  the  love  of  God,  of  perfect  sanctity  and 
goodness,  is  content  with  no  limitation ;  and  there 
fore,  with  great  beauty  and  self-evident  truth,  the 
Scripture  repeatedly  assures  unbounded,  eternal  life 
to  the  spirit  that  experiences  this  sublimest  emotion. 
But  this  love  of  God  is  derived  peculiarly  from 


LOVE    FOR    CHRIST.  181 

Christ.  The  love  he  awakens  in  us  for  himself 
leads  on  to  the  love  of  the  Father  he  manifests. 
He  comes  between,  not  to  intercept  or  eclipse,  but 
to  transmit,  the  divine  goodness  and  glory.  Our 
love  for  the  Son  interferes  not  with  our  supreme 
regard  for  the  parent  Deity,  any  more  than  our 
love  for  one  of  our  kindred  shuts  out  that  for  an 
other.  This  is  the  glory  of  all  true  affections,  that, 
amid  all  the  other  collisions  of  this  harsh  and  angry 
world,  they  never  clash,  but  encourage  and  protect 
each  other. 

Jesus  Christ,  by  drawing  so  great  and  wonderful 
regard  to  himself,  is  the  educator  of  all  the  right 
affections  of  the  human  race.  The  great  and  noble 
love  for  him  calls  forth  and  sanctifies  all  love.  So 
he  refines  and  raises  humanity  to  the  hope  of  hea 
ven.  He  awakens,  and  feeds  from  his  own  bosom, 
the  faculties  which  make  the  everlasting  existence. 
His  own  spiritual  influence,  from  his  self-sacrificing 
temper  in  all  action  and  suffering,  more  than  any 
literal  statement  or  line  of  actual  prophecy,  con 
vinces  us  of  a  future  state.  A  revelation  of  immor 
tality,  a  simple  authoritative  saying  that  we  should 
live  again,  would  not  so  persuade  us  into  the  faith 
and  consciousness  of  being  immortal,  as  does  this 
display  to  us  and  excitement  in  us  of  undying  love. 
This  opens  the  gates  of  paradise,  causes  the  celes 
tial  light  to  shine  in  our  hearts,  illumines  the  written 
word  with  the  lustre  from  above,  in  which  we  can 
read  it,  and  discloses  the  foundations  of  the  New 
16 


182  LOVE    FOR    CHRIST. 

Jerusalem  as  the  immovable  basis  on  which  all 
present  life  and  action  should  be  built.  There  are 
feelings,  called  by  the  name  of  love,  which  are  as 
transitory  as  the  perishable  good  which  they  seek. 
But  that  which  deserves  the  title  is  equally  abiding 
in  its  own  nature,  and  in  the  object  by  which  it 
holds.  It  does  not  waver,  but  has  an  enduring 
depth  and  calm ;  nor  can  any  thing  wrest  from  it 
the  conviction,  that,  to  give  opportunity  for  its 
suitable  exercise,  there  must  be  life  for  ever. 


183 


DISCOURSE   XIII. 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

I  Cor.  X.  16. — THE  CUP  OF  BLESSING  WHICH  AVE  BLESS,  IS  IT  NOT 
THE  COMMUNION  OF  THE  BLOOD  OF  CHHIST  ?  THE  BREAD  WHICH 
WE  BREAK,  IS  IT  NOT  THE  COMMUNION  OF  THE  BODY  OF  CHRIST  ? 

THERE  is  a  question  of  somewhat  transcendent 
quality,  yet  of  very  practical  importance,  never 
brought  to  any  uniform  settlement,  rarely  opened 
for  express  discussion ;  but,  according  as  one  or 
another  decision  of  it  is  taken  for  granted,  latently 
determining  all  differences  among  Christians,  — 
What,  in  relation  to  its  object  in  this  world,  is  the 
vital  principle  of  Christianity  ?  Does  it  touch  the 
individual  or  common  nature ;  fall  within  each  one's 
own  independent  centre  of  gravity,  or  press  upon 
the  relationship  of  men ;  and  insulate  the  con 
science  for  self-culture,  or  connect  human  hearts  in 
communion  ? 

I  know  not  that  there  is  any  reply  to  this  ques 
tion  but  that  it  does  both  these  things.  Certainly, 
no  other  religion  so  thrills  the  soul  with  a  sense  of 
its  immediate  relation  and  solitary  responsibleness 
to  God,  —  of  its  separate  dependence  on  him  in 


184  COMMUNION   WITH    CHRIST. 

life,  and  loneliness  in  death.  Yet  no  religion  so 
links  one  soul  of  man  with  another,  and  so  presents 
the  common  Maker  and  Father  as  the  bond  of 
human  beings.  Fellowship,  communion,  oneness 
in  God  and  Christ,  seem  to  be  chosen,  favorite  ex 
pressions  in  Scripture.  One  day  of  worship  in 
every  month  is  called  Communion  Sunday.  If 
Christianity  parts  us  for  self-examination,  it  binds 
us  in  sympathy ;  if  it  dissolves  the  congregation 
into  its  component  portions,  and  sends  everybody 
away  by  himself,  it  re-assembles  us  in  unity  of  faith 
and  worship ;  and,  if  it  levels  its  searching  ques 
tion  at  the  rectitude  and  uprightness  or  obliquity  of 
every  creature,  it  would  softly  gather  all,  even  as  a 
hen  doth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  together  in 
love. 

But,  Christianity  being  thus  at  once  moral  and 
spiritual,  still  the  inquiry  is,  —  What  is  its  first 
essence  and  main  action,  parent  and  end  of  all  else 
in  its  working,  —  the  chief  feature,  or  rather  organ 
izing  power,  that  brings  all  its  traits  into  life  and 
harmony  ?  I  propose  not  trying  to  answer  this 
question  in  the  formidable  way  of  any  speculative 
or  metaphysical  pretension ;  but  would,  in  its  dis 
position,  willingly  accept  as  final  the  Christian 
consciousness  of  the  votaries  and  friends  of  the 
religion ;  for,  if  they  do  not  understand  it,  no  phi 
losophy  or  reform  can  make  it  clear.  Without 
submitting  to  any  ecclesiastically  presentable  au 
thority  as  infallible  or  obligatory,  I  yet  yield  to  the 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 


185 


common  sense  and  experience  of  the  living  church, 
always  co-ordinate  with  the  instruction  of  the  writ 
ten  word ;  and  this  double  teaching  pronounces  that 
communion  is  the  aim  and  power  of  the  gospel ; 
or  if,  as  is  often  said,  it  appeals  to  the  pure  indivi 
duality  of  man,  it  is  primarily  to  that  part  or  exer 
cise  of  his  individuality  which  respects  not  his  own 
welfare  or  improvement,  but  the  prosperity  and 
salvation  of  his  kind.  So  means  the  word  Catholic, 
to  whatever  degree,  as  the  name  of  a  sect  sundered 
from  the  actual  Protestant  world,  it  may  be  a  mis 
nomer.  Such,  too,  the  purport,  however  dimly 
perceived  or  blindly  pursued,  in  that  whole  sym 
bolic  service  of  our  religion,  the  discussion  of  which 
agitates  and  divides  the  body  of  Christ  from  Rome 
to  England  and  America. 

But  here  the  question  rises,  —  What  is  this 
principle  of  communion  ?  The  communion  is 
commonly  spoken  of  as  something  upon  a  table, 
consisting  in  certain  elements  distributed  to  persons 
met  under  special  conditions  to  receive  them.  All 
these  are  evidently,  however,  not  the  communion, 
but  only  the  form  of  the  communion.  The  com 
munion  is  not  a  material,  but  an  invisible  thing  of 
the  soul.  The  board  and  the  supper,  the  bread 
and  wine,  nay,  the  body  and  blood,  —  the  dispute 
about  whose  real  presence  has  involved  so  much 
theological  hate,  —  are  all  but  emblems  of  the  spirit 
in  which  Christ  lived  and  suffered.  Valuable  em 
blems  surely.  If  tokens  and  signals  are  valuable 
1G* 


186  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

anywhere  or  for  any  thing ;  if  we  will  not  strip  life 
of  all  its  beautiful  symbols  and  affectionate  associa 
tions  ;  if  we  will  not  tear  off  from  our  persons,  and 
cut  down  from  our  walls,  and  empty  out  of  our 
secret  cabinets,  and  clear  away  from  the  very  mo 
tions  of  our  hands  and  lips,  every  thing  that  has  this 
expressive  and  associated  value,  and  is  precious  to 
us  but  for  what  it  stands  for,  —  which,  so  long  as  we 
are  not  pure  spirit,  but  spirit  in  body,  with  a  beating 
pulse  wrought  upon  from  without  as  well  as  within, 
we  never  can  do ;  —  then  these  tokens,  chief  and 
head  of  all  in  the  dignity  and  pathos  and  promise 
they  intend,  deserve  our  respect  and  solemn  cele 
bration. 

But  still  comes  back  the  question,  What  do  they 
intend  ?  For  when  Christians  are  so  absorbed  in 
the  external  signs  as  to  forget  the  thing  signified, 
and  look  on  the  visible  ordinance  as  the  source  of 
benefit,  instead  of  its  indication;  and  think  there  is 
a  magical  virtue  in  its  manual  administration  or 
their  bodily  attendance ;  then  come  in  superstition 
and  idolatry,  exaggerated  and  foolish  reverence  for 
the  mere  shape  and  ritual  of  worship,  languor  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  an  outside  more  than  an  in 
ward  piety,  and  a  moral  life  like  that  vitality  in 
some  lower  species  of  the  animal  creation,  which  is 
transferred  from  the  centre,  where  there  is  no  heart, ' 
to  the  surface  and  to  the  most  living  portion  in 
them  of  the  skin. 

What,  then,  is  the  intrinsic  communion  itself? 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  187 

It  is  being  brought  out  of  our  individual  interests 
and  separations,  and  bound  together  by  the  holy 
and  loving  power  we  all  acknowledge.  Commu 
nion,  so  understood,  is  indeed  the  essence  of  Chris 
tianity  ;  not  a  theory,  but  a  life ;  not  a  creed  brought 
from  the  letter  of  Scripture  by  the  dexterity  of  our 
logic  and  held  by  the  strength  of  our  partisan  will, 
but  an  inspiration  of  our  hearts ;  not  Christianity 
by  us  distinguished,  but,  what  is  a  very  different 
thing,  Christianity  distinguishing  itself  to  us,  writ 
ing  itself  on  our  mind,  and  forming  itself  in  our 
soul.  This  communion  is  the  fulfilment  of  the 
Saviour's  prayer  for  his  disciples,  that  they  all 
might  be  one  in  him  and  his  Father.  It  is  the 
consciousness  that  we,  who  live  and  breathe  in 
these  several  frames,  are  not  mutually  exclusive 
beings,  but  with  a  common  care  for  the  welfare  of 
each  other,  and  of  our  neighbor,  and  of  our  fellow- 
man.  This  reality  of  communion  we  refer  to 
Christ,  because  he  first  brought  it  in  its  fine  and 
perfect  pattern,  as  an  historic  verity,  upon  earth. 
He  established  it  among  men,  and  made  his  church 
by  it.  So,  after  him,  the  Christian  is  a  communi 
cant.  He  does  not  shut  up  any  thing  good  in  his 
own  hand  or  his  own  bosom,  but  extends  and  dif 
fuses  it  for  a  general  blessing.  Whatever  he  has  he 
shares.  The  more  precious  it  is,  the  more  free  and 
anxious  he  is  to  share  it.  That,  from  his  Lord,  is 
his  temper,  the  mark  and  characteristic  by  which 
he  is  known.  Without  that,  our  so-called  commu- 


188  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

nion  is  but  a  form,  a  pretence,  and  a  name ;  either 
a  cant  we  are  unaware  of,  or  a  base  hypocrisy. 

Thus,  too,  it  is  very  easy,  by  the  same  rule,  to 
say  who  is  not  a  Christian.  He  is  one  that  does 
not  communicate ;  who  takes  not  communion,  but 
competition,  for  his  spirit  and  law.  He  seeks  his 
own,  not  another's.  He  is  intent  on  making  his 
own  way,  carving  his  own  fortune,  procuring 
wealth  or  honor  or  power  for  himself;  all  which 
he  rnay  call  by  the  deceptive,  sanctifying  phrase  of 
taking  charge  of  his  own  affairs  and  minding  his 
own  business,  when  God  made  every  man's  true 
business  to  go  beyond  private  subsistence  and 
emolument,  and  cause  him  to  feel  ever  pressing  on 
his  heart  the  gracious  tie  of  fellowship  with  his 
kind.  He  who  desires  only  or  mainly  to  promote 
his  own  prosperity ;  who  sunders  himself  from  the 
general  good ;  who  recks  not  whether  men  or  na 
tions  groan  so  his  own  cup  is  filled,  or  who  is 
enslaved  if  he  be  free ;  but  rushes  on  to  the  pleasure 
or  gold  he  would  grasp,  practically  in  the  old  dia 
bolic  proverb,  saying,  "  Each  one  for  himself,  and 
ruin  seize  the  hindmost,"  —  he  is  not  the  Christian. 
This  is  that  spirit  of  antichrist  whose  leaven  works 
largely,  even  in  our  modern  civilization  and  so 
ciety,  and  even  a  little  of  which,  let  into  our  breast, 
will  fill  us  with  the  ferment  of  pharisaic  pride  and 
hate. 

But  this  communion  does  not  break  down  the 
sacred  distinctions  of  men.  To  commune  is  not 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  189 

to  be  confounded  together.  We  are  individuals, 
each  with  a  distinct  nature,  and  free,  accountable 
will.  But  the  peculiarity  is,  that  in  Christ  we  are 
individuals  pledged  to  each  other,  and  to  the  race 
we  are  part  of,  and  have  a  common  nature  with ; 
being  "  members  one  of  another."  This  is  the  com 
munion.  This  is  what  its  shining  vessels  all  round 
the  globe  shadow,  and  its  one  though  divided  loaf 
declares.  All  their  visible  manifestation  is  nothing 
but  a  language  to  tell  what  Christianity  is,  and  to 
say  that  the  cold,  uncommunicative  solitary  is  not 
a  Christian,  but  a  heathen ;  not  a  Christian,  though 
he  eat  the  show-bread  and  drink  the  wine,  and 
pass  current  in  all  the  commerce  of  respectability, 
and  call  himself  by  all  excellent  names,  and  cover 
himself  with  every  good  badge  and  profession  as 
a  coat  of  many  colors. 

A  majestic  principle,  indeed,  then,  is  the  commu 
nion.  There  is  some  grandeur  in  any  way  of  living 
for  others,  and  consecration  to  common  ends.  The 
very  meanest  type  of  such  an  existence  is  nobler 
than  the  highest  and  most  ostentatious  one  of  self- 
seeking.  The  old  Roman,  when  he  felt  he  was 
part  of  Rome,  freely  to  fight  and  bleed  for  her,  as  if 
his  arms  and  veins  were  her  own ;  the  wild  North 
man  jealous  for  his  clan ;  the  poor  Western  Indian, 
or  Southern  savage-islander,  exposing  himself  and 
dying  cheerfully  for  his  tribe,  has  a  touch  of  subli 
mity  about  him  absolutely  glorious  in  comparison 
with  the  close  temper  of  a  man,  in  our  modern 


190  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

Christendom,  all  taken  up  with  hugging  his  gains 
or  nursing  his  reputation,  heedless  of  others'  success 
and  forgetful  of  the  common  weal;  while  all  the 
time  Christianity  thunders  in  his  ears  her  meaning, 
that  we  are  not  our  own  but  public  property,  belong 
ing  to  others  in  public  spirit  and  love.  Oh,  that 
heavenly  love,  which  Jesus  fetched  with  him,  like 
a  lamp  or  coal,  the  first  fire  of  quality  more  than 
Promethean,  to  light  and  kindle  the  world,  alone 
makes  our  life  worthy  and  great!  No  simply  indi 
vidual  thought  or  endeavor  is  so  lofty.  No  morality 
or  righteousness  of  our  own,  however  indispensable, 
can  constitute  us  Christ's  followers  or  God's  elect, 
lacking  that  celestial  flame.  Without  it,  no  scru 
pulous  correctness,  careful  justice,  or  proud  honesty, 
will  save  us.  No  fastidious  self-examination,  no 
keen  watchfulness  against  pollution,  no  rigid  con 
scientiousness,  may  suffice  even  to  purify  us  like 
this  live  coal  from  the  altar.  The  baptism  of 
water  is  cleansing,  but  that  of  fire  more  so,  burn 
ing  off  uncleanness  from  the  heart,  as  the  stained 
and  cankered  metal,  which  no  flood  could  wash, 
brightens  and  is  burnished  in  the  white  heat.  This 
is  the  baptism  which  John,  while  he  poured  the 
Jordan  on  the  heads  of  his  followers,  prophesied 
that  one  coming  after  him  would  administer.  This, 
and  no  merely  material  process,  is  the  communion 
of  Christ's  body  and  blood. 

In  such  communion  there  is  power  beyond  the 
desultory  efforts  of  individual  men.      As  electric 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  191 

jars,  touched  one  after  another,  yield  each  but  a 
faint  flash,  but,  combined,  pour  out  a  sparkling 
stream,  before  which  flint  melts  and  flows ;  so  the 
exertions  which,  disunited  and  scattered,  make  but 
a  feeble  display  of  little  execution,  when  blended  in 
the  loving  church  of  Christ,  reduce  what  is  most 
refractory  in  the  world.  Moreover,  in  such  commu 
nion  alone  is  there  any  beauty.  When  we  look 
out  upon  the  bright  evening  sky,  it  is  not  some 
strange  shooting  star,  appearing  madly  to  leave  its 
sphere  and  traverse  the  firmament  on  its  own  ac 
count,  that  attracts  our  admiration,  though  it  may 
allure  a  moment's  wandering  gaze ;  but  it  is  the 
moving  harmony  of  the  mutually-related  orbs  of 
heaven,  set  in  the  upper  vault  to  be  a  figure  of  that 
Christian  fellowship  which  bears  the  moral  world 
on  to  bright  and  happy  issues.  Such  is  the  idea, 
in  our  familiar  benediction,  of  the  communion  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Such  is  the  gift  and  singular  in 
fluence,  for  a  universal  blessing,  of  Jesus  Christ. 

How  affecting  the  permanency  and  inexhaustible 
supply  of  his  redeeming  power !  Nothing  so  spreads, 
nothing  so  lasts,  as  the  religious  feeling  he,  above 
all  others  especially,  awakens.  Lately,  in  a  neigh 
boring  State,  forsaking  the  din  of  the  street,  and  the 
sight  of  flapping  sails  by  the  shore,  to  roam  over 
an  unfenced  barren  ground  in  an  unfrequented 
wood,  far  from  the  habitations  of  men,  I  stumbled 
in  a  thicket  upon  one  of  its  countless  proofs.  It  was 
a  grave,  with  a  stone  planted  in  the  sand  mid  the 


192  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

thin  and  scanty  grass.    The  inscription,  as  I  stooped 
to  peruse  it,  showed  an   antiquity  running  back 
towards  the  first  settlement  of  the  country.     Time 
had  almost  worn  away  the  letters ;  and  the  yellow 
moss,  hardened  by  years,  grew  toughly  over  the 
marble.     But,  gazing  long  to  spell  out  the  name 
and  date,  I  descried,  in  the  circular  top  of  the  low, 
leaning  monument,  a  rudely  carved  head  of  the 
Saviour,  having  a  circumference  in  the  likeness  of 
the  sun,  with  rays  shooting  out  as  if  to  illumine 
the  world.     Verily,  a  true  emblem.     The  truth  of 
centuries  ago,  strong  when  the  first  civilizer  and 
Christianizer  paddled  his  canoe  across  the  adjacent 
stream,  was  still  fresh   to   the  soul  in  that  little 
mould.     The  beams,  dimly  sculptured  in  the  gray 
rock,  shone  with  a  lustre  beyond  those  of  the  orb 
of  day.     The  short  halo  of  a  handbreadth  seemed 
to  run  and  radiate  over  all  the  earth.     In  the  light 
of  those  facts  which  alone  glorify  our  human  life, 
so  was  that  cold  and  hard  emblem  kindled  and 
transformed.     The  winds,  sighing  through  the  scat 
tered  tops  of  the  pines,  echoed  the  exclamation  of 
the  thought.     The  clouds,  passing  over  the  land 
scape,  in  their  dark  burdens  signalizing  the  sorrows 
that  chequer  human  existence,  which  our  strength 
cannot  throw  off  or  our  wisdom  cure,  reflected  on 
gigantic  scale  the  light  from  that  humble  grave, 
and  through  the  waves  of  the  unbounded  air  ap 
peared  to  flow  the  Son  of  God's  immortal  love  for 
his  followers'  everlasting  communion. 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  193 

But  the  question  we  started  with  now  opens 
into  a  further  interrogation,  —  Who  and  what  is 
Christ,  the  object  or  medium  of  this  communion  ? 
The  same  principle  or  essence  of  the  gospel  rises 
and  meets  us  for  an  answer.  Christ  was  and  is  a 
being  in  communion  with  God,  communion  perfect 
and  entire,  receiving  the  spirit  without  measure. 
But,  then,  he  is  a  being  in  communion  with  man 
too,  and  is  the  Son  of  man,  wearing  a  human  na 
ture  mixed  with  the  divine.  He  alone  possesses 
the  wonderful  property  to  fill  up  the  whole  space 
between  God  and  man.  His  communion  has  two 
wings :  one  touching  the  heavenly  throne ;  the  other, 
mortal  abodes.  One  arm  is  linked  in  God's  hand, 
and  the  other  in  our  own,  for  the  current  of  eternal 
life  to  pass  down  into  our  frail  bosom.  He  is 
God's  approach  to  man,  and  man's  approach  to 
God.  To  the  vision  of  the  soul  he  looks  as  one 
between  God  and  man,  below  God  and  above  man ; 
on  the  hither  side  of  divinity,  and  the  further  side 
of  humanity,  —  the  method  and  channel  of  inter 
course.  He  is  the  ideal  man  and  a  practical  deity. 

So  instrumental  and  communicative  is  he,  that 
an  ancient  sect  thought  he  had  no  substantial  sepa 
rate  existence  of  his  own,  but  was  a  sort  of  phantom ; 
and  a  modern  sect  seems  to  leave  him  hardly  any 
distinct  nature,  after  he  expired  here  below.  These 
great  errors  may  have  arisen  from  the  remarkable 
fact  in  Christ's  actual  character  and  working,  that 
there  is  in  him  no  very  sharp  individuality ;  except 
17 


194  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

in  his  devotion  and  self-sacrifice,  hardly  a  personal 
appearance  about  him.  "We  call  him  the  sun  of 
righteousness,  with  more  truth  than  we  imagine. 
For,  as  the  pure  and  shining  light,  that  spreads 
through  the  sky,  comes  to  no  precise  angular  boun 
dary,  but,  where  opposing  cloud  or  dark  would 
interrupt  it,  only  softly  and  gradually  melts  away ; 
while  its  manifold  beams,  with  inconceivable  swift 
ness,  still  pass  on  their  infinite  journey  of  endless 
years ;  so  is  it  with  his  finer  lustre,  blazing  upon 
the  soul,  traversing  the  gloom  of  sin  and  error, 
through  all  the  depths  of  the  human  heart,  down 
all  the  generations  of  men.  Most  truly  and  com 
prehensively  is  he  described  as  one  in  communion, 
double  communion,  with  the  head  and  members  of 
the  universal  family.  However  the  fact  may  baffle 
analysis  and  defy  statement  in  our  crude  orthodoxy, 
yet  he  seems  in  his  communion  to  be  part  God  and 
part  man ;  a  Mediator  that  takes  away  all  bounds 
of  intercourse  between  the  parent  and  the  so-often 
estranged  child. 

On  this  principle  of  communion,  as  the  true 
expression  of  our  religion,  the  pattern  of  supreme 
excellence,  set  in  God  and  Christ  for  man  to  copy, 
is  not  a  correct  outward  morality,  though  that  is 
indispensable,  and  will  be  a  certain  result.  We  do 
not  feel  that  we  adequately  describe  Christ  in  speak 
ing  of  him  merely  as  of  one  that  tells  the  truth,  and 
never  violates  his  veracity ;  or  as  an  honest  man, 
that  never  invades  other  persons'  rights;  or  as  a 


COMMUNION   WITH    CHRIST.  195 

pure  man,  in  but  the  sense  of  being  unsoiled  by  this 
dusty  world ;  or  in  enumerating  the  longest  list  of 
the  decent  and  respectable  virtues  of  society,  though 
we  believe  every  thing,  even  externally  fair  and 
beautiful  beyond  all  impropriety  or  color  of  indeco 
rum,  was  certainly  his.  We  are  thus  far  only  on 
the  outside  and  at  the  fingers'  ends  of  his  excellence. 
We  reach  the  heart  of  it,  only  when,  through  all 
true  words  and  righteous  deeds,  we  penetrate  to  the 
warm,  immense  love  of  his  communion  with  God 
and  man.  This  communion  it  is,  reverently  be  it 
said,  that  makes  Christ.  This  communion,  too, 
alone  can  make  the  Christian,  Christ's  follower. 

How  wondrously,  too,  this  idea  transforms  the 
outward  figure  and  being  of  Jesus  himself!  He  is 
no  longer  simply  an  historic  character,  of  whom  we 
read,  far  off  in  the  profound  of  time  and  space; 
walking  and  teaching  alone  in  Judea,  and  lying 
down  there,  the  victim  of  persecution,  in  his  martyr- 
grave  ;  nor  merely  one  who  foiled  the  spite  of  his  foes 
in  ascending  the  skies  out  of  their  reach,  to  mansions 
commonly  regarded  as  vastly  more  distant  than  the 
other  side  of  the  globe.  Through  this  all-conquer 
ing,  everywhere-travelling  power  of  love,  he  draws 
near.  To  our  gaze  he  seems  not,  as  to  those  men 
of  Galilee,  rising  up  to  vanish  in  abysses  of  air,  but 
rather  approaching.  He  forsakes  his  station  on  the 
shore  or  in  the  synagogue,  and  advances  toward  us. 
He  leaves  his  seat  of  glory  on  high,  and  descends 
upon  us.  Defying  distance  and  the  world's  chro- 


196  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

nology,  mysteriously,  through  the  intervening  air, 
he  moves  to  enter  our  hearts,  as  the  door,  like  that 
of  the  room  where  the  disciples  were  sitting,  opens 
to  him  of  its  own  accord.  Busily  he  works  within, 
writing  his  own  life  on  the  fleshly  tables,  and  form 
ing  himself  in  us  the  hope  of  glory. 

This  is  the  never-ending  marvel,  —  this  the  mira 
cle,  which  is,  indeed,  continued  from  the  first  age 
through  all  the  church,  Catholic  and  Protestant, 
—  namely,  that  Christ  is  here.  Pilate  and  CsBsar 
are  there,  away,  dead.  Pythagoras  and  Plato  and 
Socrates,  whom  some  would  look  to  as  instructors, 
are  not  here,  but  in  ancient  Greece  still,  in  the 
mould  of  her  soil,  narrowly  entombed  in  the  past. 
As  men  have  often  been  buried  with  their  familiar 
dress  upon  them,  so  they  have  the  passion  of  age 
and  clime,  the  obsolete  costume  and  exploded 
opinion  of  their  antiquity,  inseparably  cleaving  to 
them.  They  can  by  no  ingenuity  be  clad  in  any 
garb  of  universal  wisdom  or  goodness,  to  occupy 
decently  now  the  innermost  chamber  of  the  loftiest 
soul.  Read  the  Dialogues  or  the  Republic  of  the 
great  Greek  sage,  and,  with  all  the  gleams  of  essen 
tial  truth  that  shine  through,  how  much  is  there  not 
in  harmony,  but  violently  incongruous,  with  the  fit 
ting  garb  of  an  immortal  teacher,  universal  philo 
sopher,  or  even  friend  of  humanity ! 

But  Christ  is  here,  both  crowned  by  the  greatest 
and  best  of  the  race,  and,  in  no  strange  or  unbeco 
ming  guise,  an  inhabitant  of  the  secret  recesses  in 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  197 

the  bosom  of  millions.  When  we  would  imagine 
the  proportions  of  his  sublime  existence,  they  stretch 
along  the  world's  annals,  and  tower  into  the  hea 
vens  ;  and,  with  a  humility  grand  as  their  dignity, 
lessen  themselves,  without  loss  of  a  tittle  of  their 
power,  to  the  compass  of  our  poor  throbbing  nature. 
He  is  the  word,  the  spirit,  the  breath  of  God,  breath 
ing  into  the  human  soul,  to  inflame  it  with  prayer 
and  charity ;  and  we,  too,  inspiring  that  breath, 
may  blow  on  the  hidden  spark  or  amid  the  declin 
ing  embers  of  human  virtue,  till  all  around,  out  of 
the  very  ashes  of  prodigality  and  neglect,  shoots  up 
the  holy  fire  which  shall  finally  cleanse  the  earth, 
and,  better  than  Elijah's  chariot,  wrap  its  dwellers 
to  the  skies. 

This  communion  is  no  abstract  and  fruitless 
thing.  If  genuine,  it  will  issue  from  us  in  every 
mode  of  gracious  action.  As  Christ's  nature  was 
to  impart,  and  virtue  went  out  of  him  from  his 
tongue  and  hand  and  garment's  hem ;  so,  in  his 
communion,  virtue  will  go  out  of  us.  Our  light 
and  knowledge,  our  genius  and  power,  or  our 
worldly  opportunities  and  means,  will  be  sacrifice. 
So  decrees  the  new  covenant,  the  spiritual  con 
stitution  under  which  we  live.  Such  has  been  the 
increasing  effect  of  his  gospel,  in  producing  a  real 
oneness  in  the  human  family.  Parted  by  diversi 
ties  of  race  and  language,  by  contrary  customs,  con 
flicting  interests,  and  contending  passions,  whatever 
fraternity  there  is  among  nations,  or  harmony  in 
17* 


198  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

our  homes,  is  largely  the  fruit  of  his  religion.  This 
is  no  character  which  weak  man  has  built  up  for 
himself.  It  is  not  the  self-righteousness  wrought  out 
by  the  pains  and  pride  of  an  individual  conscience. 
It  is  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  not  in  the  tech 
nical  understanding  of  an  imputed  righteousness, 
but  righteousness  like  his,  and  coming  from  him  by 
inspiration.  It  is  no  Jewish  strictness  of  manners, 
no  hard  justice  of  an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth,  but  a  burning  affection,  clothing  human 
souls  with  a  finer  charm,  and  lighting  them  with  a 
more  sacred  zeal.  It  is  communion. 

But,  were  I  searching  for  some  illustration  of  the 
beneficent  operation  of  this  new  and  distinctive 
Christian  principle,  I  know  not  that  I  should  point 
to  those  more  striking  consequences  of  it  so  often 
noted.  I  would  not  survey  the  great  denomina 
tions  of  believers,  marching,  on  their  various  paths 
of  conquest,  through  the  earth.  I  would  not  bring 
into  sight  the  splendid  churches  reared  on  the  face 
of  the  globe,  St.  Peter's  or  St.  Paul's,  with  all  the 
imposing  pomp  and  order  of  their  worship.  Nor 
would  the  famous  enterprises  even  of  freedom,  phi 
lanthropy,  and  civilization,  with  their  works  of 
industry  and  codes  of  law,  and  endless  trains 
of  benefit,  shining  along  the  paths  of  men,  come 
into  my  mind.  Rather  would  there  return  to  me 
some  dislodged  fragment,  some  torn  and  flying 
scud  of  that  life  which  is  a  vapor,  some  floating 
straw  of  humanity,  for  an  index  and  measure  of 


COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST.  199 

the  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men.  I  would  recall,  for  an 
instance,  something  like  what  I  have  seen,  not  long 
since,  in  a  New  England  village ;  a  poor  woman, 
lonely,  far  from  her  native  land,  with  her  thin, 
coarse  robes  fluttering  in  the  cold  March  breeze 
that  blustered  by,  sitting  down  at  the  road-side 
under  a  hedge,  and,  heedless  of  every  passer,  in  her 
own  foreign  tongue,  repeating  aloud  the  prayers  of 
the  religious  communion  in  wrhich  she  had  been 
brought  up.  Some  such  obscure  fact  would  recur 
in  demonstration,  that,  when  the  spire  of  child 
hood's  church,  like  the  light-house  to  the  out-sailing 
mariner,  has  faded  and  sunk  in  the  distance  from 
the  exile's  eye ;  when  the  familiar  voice  in  suppli 
cation  is  no  longer  heard ;  and  the  choir,  to  sing 
the  verses  out  of  David's  Psalrns,  in  which  the 
sojourner,  now  in  a  strange  land,  once  mingled 
jubilant  notes,  is  for  ever  disbanded ;  yet,  with  a 
more  than  brotherly  or  sisterly  bond,  the  union  of 
spirits  from  and  in  Christ  still  holds,  and  raises 
wanderers,  from  the  corners  of  the  world,  in  the 
same  worship  and  trust  to  the  skies ;  or  perhaps 
enables  our  own  kindred  in  another  zone,  with  their 
expiring  breath,  to  yield  up  the  ghost  to  God  in 
the  same  faith  which  consoles  us  for  their  de 
parture. 

This  Christian  communion,  in  fine,  makes  us 
responsible,  not  only  for  ourselves,  but  for  all  within 
the  circle  of  our  life.  As  some  plants  make  the  air 
wholesome,  and  others  turn  it  to  a  deadly  poison, 


200  COMMUNION    WITH    CHRIST. 

so  is  it  with  our  own  atmosphere.  Christ  came, 
and  left  in  charge  to  his  followers,  to  sweeten  the 
air  of  existence.  Therefore  descended  he  from 
heaven ;  therefore  his  followers  live  on  earth.  In 
the  affairs  of  this  world,  every  member,  of  what 
ever  partnership  or  association,  is  someway  respon 
sible  for  the  whole.  So,  in  the  Christian  tie,  can 
we  not  escape  a  joint  more  than  our  personal 
nature  and  judgment.  Our  moral  as  well  as  poli 
tical  and  social  life  is  solid,  and  woven  without 
seam.  If  the  company  which  we  constitute  pros 
per  not,  sin  lieth  at  the  door.  Jesus  Christ,  separate 
from  sinners,  seemed  to  feel  responsible  for  all  man 
kind,  Hebrew  and  Greek,  Gentile  and  stranger.  To 
bear  truly  his  name,  so  must  we.  So  must  we,  to 
illustrate  the  principle  —  the  new  commandment 
well  did  he  call  it  —  which  he  brought  down  with 
him,  to  link  men  together,  and  to  lift  them  up. 


201 


DISCOURSE  XIV. 


THE   CHRISTIAN   FORMULA   OF   BAPTISM. 
Matt,  xxviii.  19.  —  GO  YE,  THEREFORE,  AND  TEACH  ALL  NATIONS, 

BAPTIZING    THEM    IN     THE     NAME    OF    THE    FATHER,   AND   OF    THE 
SON,    AND   OF  THE   HOLY   GHOST. 

THIS  "  name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,"  on  the  power  of  which  the  uni 
versal  baptism  of  the  world  is  thus  suspended,  has 
always  been  one  of  the  great  clauses  of  our  religion. 
Perhaps  no  other  phrase  of  the  New  Testament  has 
been  so  frequently  spoken  ;  has  so  widely  prevailed, 
and  been  learned  by  heart,  as  the  gospel's  grand 
expression ;  has  borne  down  such  a  weight  of  his 
toric  meaning  in  notable  events  and  stirring  pas 
sages  among  Christians ;  of  whose  significance  and 
effect  it  has  been  itself  the  cause  or  culmination, 
or  at  this  moment  holds,  pours  out  in  the  world,  or 
carries  to  heaven,  in  solemn  appeal,  so  much  ear 
nestness  and  sometimes  agony  of  emotion.  Nothing 
have  the  tongues  of  elders  in  the  church  so  often 
devoutly  ejaculated,  or  the  ears  of  children  wonder- 
ingly  heard.  From  lips,  warm  with  zeal  and  love, 
it  has  swelled  up  in  how  many  a  prayer !  In  strains 


202  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

of  what  power  and  sweetness  it  has  sounded  forth 
in  many  a  musical  hosanna!  Of  what  solemn 
vows  and  consecrations  it  has  been  the  seal ;  and 
furnished  the  most  binding  sanction,  and  held  for 
millions,  in  the  close  tie  of  its  complex  meaning, 
the  strongest  life-long  bonds !  Judged  by  the  effects 
it  produces,  by  the  engagements  to  God  and  man  it 
sustains,  or  by  the  everlasting  sense  its  few  words 
convey  to  the  soul,  it  is  the  greatest  sentence  of 
human  speech.  Nor  has  it  been  allowed  to  become 
the  proof-text,  support,  or  peculiar  property  of  any 
one  portion  of  Christendom  or  class  of  Christians ; 
but,  while  different  sects  have  torn  asunder,  each 
into  its  own  favorite  piece  and  fragment,  the  Mas 
ter's  teaching,  as  his  garment  was  torn  at  his  cru 
cifixion,  this  saying,  as  though  its  sublimity  had 
constrained  special  regard,  and  its  purport  were 
everywhere  felt  essential  to  faith,  has  been  claimed 
and  used  by  all. 

But  wherein  consists  its  singular  power  ?  I  an 
swer,  that  this  last  commission  of  Christ  to  his 
followers  is  at  once  the  most  brief  and  most  com 
prehensive  form  of  the  whole  doctrine  of  his  religion 
respecting  the  divine  nature.  The  great  point  in 
a  revelation  from  heaven  evidently  is  how  to  bring 
the  Almighty  and  Unimaginable  One  into  contact 
with  the  human  mind.  By  the  pure  intellect  this 
seems  a  problem  insolvable.  No  logical  power  can 
lay  hold  of  the  divine  existence.  The  greatest  of 
truths  seems  most  to  illustrate  the  quaint  proposi- 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  203 

tion  of  a  remarkable  modern  writer,  that  the  under 
standing  is  the  least  faculty  of  a  man.  The  annals 
of  all  philosophy  show  that  there  is  no  height  so 
inaccessible,  and  no  abyss  so  deep,  as  the  Source  of 
all  that  is.  No  man  alone  ever  got  to  it  yet.  Truly 
the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God.  No  agility  of 
pure  intellect  ever  clambered  to  the  cloudy  top  of 
this  mountain,  or  descended  to  the  bottom  of  this 
well  of  truth.  Strength  fails,  the  eye  waxes  dim, 
the  light  of  the  torch  of  science  goes  out :  only  the 
unaccountable  instinct,  with  its  best  of  all  vouchers 
of  reality,  still  rises  or  gropes,  and  unceasingly  feels 
after  God. 

Now,  the  gospel  is  distinguished  from  the  schemes 
of  human  wisdom,  in  that  it  gives  us  no  metaphy 
sics  of  the  Deity ;  deals  in  none  of  those  abstractions 
which  the  brain  of  man,  for  ever  busy  on  this  theme, 
has  so  plentifully  brought  forth.  Contrariwise,  it 
declares  the  impossibility  of  our  knowing  the  es 
sence  of  God.  It  warns  us  away  from  that  pit  of 
unbelief,  mental  confusion,  atheism,  and  loss  of  all 
moral  distinctions,  into  which  so  many  brave  intel 
lects,  in  their  unaided  adventures  of  curious  specu 
lation  to  explore  and  settle  the  origin  and  founda 
tion  of  all  things,  have  gone  down.  It  reveals  no 
way,  by  searching,  to  find  out  God.  But  it  shows 
us  close  at  our  door  what  we  had  sought  afar  off. 
It  remands  us  to  our  own  hearts,  to  the  instincts  of 
love  and  duty  and  reverence  involved  in  our  first 
natural  relations ;  and  brings  down  from  the  highest 


204  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

heaven  the  teaching  that  is  met  by  a  sentiment 
soaring  up  from  the  depths  of  our  own  bosom. 
Turning  to  a  symbol  the  great  bond  of  parent  and 
child,  that  links  all  mankind  together,  it  tells  us 
that  God  is  our  Father.  Then  it  makes  that  won 
derful  and  inconceivable  Being,  who  lifts  as  a  little 
thing  the  fathomless  universe  he  creates,  to  touch 
our  feeling  still  more  nearly  by  presenting  the  Mes 
senger  of  his  truth  and  will  to  men  as  his  own  Son ; 
not  alone  in  the  sense  in  which  the  feeblest  spark 
of  a  rational  intelligence,  shining  with  the  faintest, 
most  intermittent  glow-worm  lustre  on  any  point 
in  all  the  spheres,  is  so ;  but  his  Son  in  something 
like  that  near  and  equal  tie  that  binds  one  genera 
tion  of  mortals  to  another;  his  Son  by  an  immediate 
and  measureless  inspiration,  the  offspring  of  his 
immortal  purity  and  love;  his  Son  by  having  a 
character,  temper,  and  purpose,  a  breadth  and  holi 
ness  of  aim,  like  his  own ;  his  Son  by  carrying  on 
plans  of  grace  and  mercy  and  infinite  wisdom  in 
harmonious  co-operation  with  the  absolute  and  eter 
nal  One,  as  a  child  might  understand  and  effect 
any  particular  worldly  business  jointly  with  his 
earthly  sire.  We  are,  indeed,  all  of  us  children  of 
God,  with  worship  and  affection  capable,  in  the 
training  of  our  religion,  of  aspiring  to  him  from 
whom  we  came.  But  this  evangelical  idea  of 
Christ's  Sonship  exceeds  all  that  any  of  us  can 
presume  in  his  own  person  to  have  expressed.  Its 
realization  in  Jesus  causes  him  to  be  peculiarly 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  205 

God's  Son ;  and  the  discrimination,  implied  in  the 
second  term  of  our  text,  remains. 

Thus  Christianity  gives  us  none  of  those  poor 
divinities  constructed  by  argument,  the  puny  pro 
duct  of  our  yet  infantile  reasoning,  without  life 
or  power,  remaining  as  the  inert  figments  of  the 
contradictory  theories  by  which  they  have  been 
begotten ;  but  a  Divinity,  with  all  his  immensity 
in  action,  taking  hold  of  us  by  our  heartstrings, 
and  with  that  relation  of  Father  and  Son  which 
makes  the  creation  throughout  tremble  with  native 
veneration  and  joy,  agitating  all  living  spirits  that 
have  come  to  know  him,  and  drawing  them  to 
himself. 

But  thus  far  the  divine  nature  seems  to  ap 
proach  us  from  without,  as  the  natural  tie  of  parent 
and  child,  through  the  senses,  penetrates  the  soul. 
So  only  represented,  God  might  appear  too  much 
an  external  existence,  a  figure  in  space,  a  move 
ment  through  the  air,  a  gross  and  material  per 
sonality  under  the  mortal  limitations  we  endure. 
Therefore,  justly  to  balance  the  idea  of  God  to  the 
mind,  without  making  it  less  affecting,  the  vital  and 
operative  quality  of  the  Christian  doctrine  is  com 
pleted  by  adding  the  Holy  Ghost,  proceeding  from 
God  himself  directly,  or  emanating  from  the  now 
unseen  Christ,  and  answering  in  the  breast  to  all 
that  comes  from  the  incarnation  of  knowledge  and 
goodness  without,  flesh  on  the  one  side  and  spirit 
on  the  other,  assumed  by  the  same  first  mysterious 
18 


206  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

Energy  to  unite  his  own  sanctifying  influence  to 
our  erring  and  sinful  nature. 

These  three  terms,  then,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  constitute  the  grand  Christian  formula  of 
the  Deity,  considered  as  practically  at  work  in  the 
world  to  redeem  and  save.  Vast  and  very  mar 
vellous  is  its  implication  of  power.  This  mode  of 
instruction  respecting  the  supreme  reality,  so  baf 
fling  the  inquiry  which  would  scale  the  heavens, 
has  brought  Him  that  formed  us  very  near ;  has 
made  us  feel  his  hand  upon  us  and  hear  his  whis 
per  within  us,  and  built  a  ladder  on  which  little 
children  can  climb  up  after  him  into  the  skies.  He 
no  longer  remains  a  faint  conception,  that  appears 
or  vanishes  like  a  revolving  light ;  one  among  other 
notions,  ever  changing  their  bodiless  and  unsub 
stantial  shapes  to  the  versatile  fancy  by  which  they 
are  produced ;  but  becomes  a  force  upon  which  we 
lean  and  cannot  escape  from,  an  arm  against  which 
we  strike  in  our  transgression  or  are  led  in  our 
obedience.  He  is  let  down  upon  us  from  above, 
encompasses  us  around,  and  stands  before  our  way 
ward  steps,  like  the  angel  of  the  Lord  of  old,  invi 
sibly  fronting  the  prophet.  The  very  air  that  we 
breathe  is  now  thick  with  his  presence.  The  cords 
that  run  through  us  link  him  to  our  side.  He 
moves  among  our  very  thoughts,  and  startles  our 
interior  consciousness  with  his  whisper  or  admoni 
tion.  In  every  design  and  motion  we  are  con 
strained  to  apprehend  him,  with  gladness  or  a 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  207 

shudder,  as  our  aim  coincides  with  or  is  contrary 
to  his  will.  God  as  the  Father,  in  the  Son  and 
tiirough  the  Holy  Spirit,  besets  us  behind  and  be 
fore,  and  lays  his  hand  upon  us  by  virtue  of  those 
emotions,  which,  excited  from  abroad  or  internally 
aroused,  are  the  strongest  and  most  constant  forces 
in  our  nature. 

This  scriptural  disclosure  of  God,  in  which,  more 
than  in  any  other  conception,  he  appears  with  a 
presence  wide  and  powerful  among  the  nations, 
does  not,  however,  divide  him  into  manifestations, 
but  preserves  the  essence,  while  it  displays  the  va 
rious  working,  of  the  Deity.  The  essence  is  the 
divine  paternity.  We  never  speak,  and  the  Bible 
never  speaks,  of  God  as  revealed  through  the  Father. 
God  is  the  Father  who  is  revealed.  God,  in  his 
very  nature,  is  the  Father  manifested  by  the  Son. 
God  is  the  Father,  in  the  Son,  through  the  Holy 
Spirit.  His  fatherhood  is  his  own  original  charac 
ter  ;  not  in  Christ's  statement  a  dramatic  show  to 
human  fancy,  not  merely  a  figure  of  speech  drawn 
from  the  relation  of  an  earthly  father  respecting 
him,  but  his  veritable  being.  The  earthly  paren 
tage  is  the  figure  of  speech  taken  from  God,  who 
is  alone  the  real  Father.  The  earthly  parentage  is 
the  shadow  cast,  not  upon  him  from  below,  but 
into  time,  among  human  relations,  from  his  eternal 
reality.  To  reverse  this,  to  make  God's  parentage 
the  projection  and  mere  figure  of  man's,  instead  of 
man's  the  result  and  borrowed  reflection  of  God's ; 


208  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

and  then  to  deny  us  the  power  of  coming  into 
actual  communion  with  him,  more  than  by  playing 
with  his  semblance  in  our  conceit,  is  to  assign  the 
strength  and  glory  to  the  effect  not  to  the  cause,  give 
us  a  stone  for  bread,  and  plunge  us  into  utter  un 
belief  and  despair.  No  :  God  verily  is  the  Father  ; 
not  to  be  compassed  by  our  logic,  but  embraced 
by  our  consciousness  in  an  apprehension  as  true 
and  undeceiving,  as  is  our  apprehension  of  the 
world,  or  a  fellow-creature,  or  our  own  soul. 

So  much  is  in  this  chief  Christian  formula,  which 
makes  God  not  a  remote  mathematical  unity,  but 
a  related  being ;  and  all  things,  in  the  region  of 
matter  or  spirit,  alive  and  burning  with  his  mani 
fold  activity.  Verily,  a  great  discovery  to  the  world 
is  that  oneness  of  God,  the  common  crown  of  Juda 
ism  and  the  gospel,  before  whose  universal  and 
transcendent  light  the  countless  hosts  of  Pagan 
deities  flee  away,  and  the  gloom  of  a  hopeless,  con 
founding  pantheism  is  scattered. 

But  we  have  not  attained  to  such  a  fulness  of 
knowledge  as  some  fancy,  in  ascertaining  the  sim 
ple  oneness  of  God.  We  want  also  to  know  who 
and  what  this  one  Being  is.  We  want  not  merely 
to  see  him  sit  in  the  absolute  original  loneliness, 
which  none  beside  can  disturb  or  share ;  but,  some 
how,  also  leaving  his  far  station  of  incommunicable 
glory,  becoming  a  social  being,  communicating  even 
himself,  and  multiplying  his  own  image.  It  moves 
us  more  to  understand  that  the  humble  and  contrite 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  209 

heart  is  his  abode,  than  that  the  heaven  is  his  tem 
ple.  "We  rejoice  to  believe,  that  the  reason  why 
the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain  him  is  be 
cause  he  desires  to  dwell  in  the  lowly  human  breast. 
He  calls  not  such  interest  to  himself  when  he  goes 
forth  from  the  primeval  palace  of  his  eternal  home, 
to  people  his  dominion  with  sparkling  globes,  by 
matchless  mechanism  and  wondrous  art,  a  solitary 
builder  and  painter,  between  whose  awful  genius 
and  the  creatures  that  he  animates  is  an  impassa 
ble  gulf,  —  as  he  does  when  he  breathes  into  indivi 
dual  forms  a  kindred  nature,  makes  the  thunder 
articulate  to  declare  the  Dearly-begotten  and  Only- 
beloved,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleased ;  or,  with 
instant  impulse  of  his  own  essential  spirit,  enters 
into  our  frame. 

What  similar  manifestations  he  may  have  made 
of  himself  in  other  lands  of  his  boundless  territory, 
we  are  ignorant.  For  this  world,  we  are  glad  that 
we  can  not  only  see  him  fashioning  it  for  our  mor 
tal  home,  and  pouring  out,  in  due  mixture,  the  ele 
ments  that  compose  its  fair  and  habitable  surface  ; 
but,  while  the  ground  crumbles  under  our  feet,  and 
the  waves  roll  ceaseless  to  the  wasting  shore,  and 
the  billowy  air  sweeps  unconfined  over  our  head, 
that  nothing  but  the  tent  which  we  occupy  belongs 
to  the  fluctuating,  perishable  scene ;  that,  by  his 
Messiah  and  an  inward  anointing,  assuring  us  of 
our  childhood  and  his  paternity,  he  has  signed  the 
title  of  our  immortal  being.  Drowning  in  the  tide 
18* 


210  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

of  the  multitude  of  our  own  thoughts  within  us,  or 
stumbling  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  this  divine 
activity,  the  Father  in  the  Son,  through  the  Spirit, 
comes  to  our  aid.  A  threefold  cord  is  not  soon 
broken.  And  these  three  glories  of  our  religion,  — 
God  as  the  Father,  in  the  Son,  through  the  Holy 
Spirit,  —  into  which  the  dazzling  and  insupporta 
ble  effulgence  of  the  Uncreated  parts,  as  with  a 
branching  triple  lustre,  light  us  on  our  way  through 
the  perplexities  of  life,  and  over  the  dark  valley  of 
death. 

We  can  scarcely  exaggerate  the  essential  value 
of  the  Christian  formula,  or  rise  above  the  broad 
general  Christian  consciousness  of  its  worth.  Its 
precious  and  powerful  quality,  however,  does  not 
depend  on  any  curious  logical  explanation  of  its 
terms.  It  is  made  clear  by  no  subtlety  of  the 
schools,  but  in  that  simple  interpretation,  given  by 
human  nature  itself,  in  the  exercise  of  its  own 
inborn  feelings,  as  developed  by  the  actual  rela 
tions  of  life.  The  attempt  to  analyze  these  pater 
nal,  filial,  and  spiritual  ideas,  to  reduce  them  to  their 
ground,  and  discover  the  comparative  rank  of  the 
substances  they  represent,  is  to  go  back  into  that 
very  gulf  of  boundless  and  barren  speculation,  from 
which,  by  the  gospel,  the  human  intellect  has  been 
plucked.  The  scripture-illustration  of  the  divine 
nature  acting  on  the  human  soul  cannot  be  mea 
sured  or  resolved  by  our  thought,  but  can  be  felt  in 
our  heart,  and  admitted  to  renew  our  life.  It  wants 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  211 

no  reducing  fire  and  crucible  of  philosophy  for  its 
test,  but  our  realizing  imagination  and  feeling  for 
its  acceptance.  Every  change  of  it,  by  argument, 
from  its  primary  cast,  every  mark  of  man's  fingers 
upon  it,  has  been  but  deformity  and  injury.  The 
transmutation,  for  example,  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
into  a  distinct  person,  in  order  then  to  assert  a 
co-equality  of  three  persons,  has  produced  nothing 
but  confusion  and  strife,  by  its  addition  of  man's 
reasoning  to  the  divine  word,  that  reveals  God  as 
the  Father,  in  the  Son,  through  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Nay,  it  contradicts  the  word,  in  which  the  Spirit 
always  appears  as  a  breathing  and  quality,  a  flame 
or  a  gift,  not  as  a  person ;  and  which  contains 
Christ's  own  unalterable  affirmations  that  his  Fa 
ther  is  greater  than  himself,  and  that  God,  as 
distinguished  from  all  others,  alone  is  good. 

Let  it  not  be  said,  that  I  displace  an  adversary's 
dogmatism  with  my  own.  I  but  open,  from  all 
grounds  of  sectarian  battle,  a  retreat  to  the  hills,  to 
re-form,  as  one  army,  back  at  those  impregnable 
lines  of  defence  in  the  revelation  itself,  where  Chris 
tians  may  stand  together  and  be  unconquerable,  not 
by  each  other,  but  by  all  the  skepticism,  error,  and 
sin  of  the  world.  If  one  must  use  his  own  words 
to  elucidate  his  own  understanding  of  the  record, 
certainly  no  shape  into  which  the  Christian  doctrine 
may  be  thus  put,  need  ever  be  used  to  exclude  any 
who  hold  to  the  Christian  formula.  To  banish  from 
fellowship  a  man  noble  with  purity  and  piety,  and 


212  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

accepting  the  volume  of  faith  in  its  own  expres 
sions,  because  he  agrees  not  in  the  precise  sense 
fixed  on  those  expressions  by  consociation  or 
synod ;  and  to  make,  perhaps,  the  charity  to  be 
lievers  of  every  name,  which  he  adds  to  his  other 
graces,  the  reason  for  coldly  turning  the  back  upon 
him  ;  or  to  shut  out  of  communion  on  earth,  or,  if 
that  could  be,  hope  in  heaven,  a  denomination  of 
men  for  the  peculiarity  of  their  honest  persuasion  in 
the  sense  of  the  only  authority,  is  a  sin  against  that 
very  Holy  Ghost  which  is  rent  by  the  excommuni 
cation,  and  grieved  by  the  dispute.  For  the  Chris 
tian  formula  itself  is  no  wedge  of  division,  but  an 
inclusive  bond  of  union ;  and  is  perverted  to  a 
purpose  directly  contrary  to  its  own  genius  and 
design,  when  it  is  changed  from  the  soft  bandage 
of  healing  to  the  keen  instrument  of  a  wound. 
Verily,  so  wide  as  it  is  in  its  language,  avoiding  all 
the  sharp  and  thorny  distinctions  of  man's  device, 
by  which  we  are  so  tangled  and  severed,  it  is 
Christ's  own  easy  and  blessed  yoke  under  which 
all  may  come,  Catholic  and  Protestant,  Trinitarian 
and  Unitarian,  Establishment  and  Dissent,  yielding 
to  every  one,  with  its  regenerating  power,  also  the 
double  blessing  of  freedom  of  thought  and  large 
ness  of  love. 

In  exercising  the  privilege  of  independent  con 
victions,  under  our  Leader's  banner,  that  floats  so 
broadly  in  the  heavens,  bearing  no  fine  illegible 
characters  on  its  folds,  but  the  blazonry  of  ideas 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  213 

which  the  young  can  read,  and  which  are  made  so 
large  and  liberal,  as  if  not  to  summon  a  little  clan 
to  its  following,  but  all  the  ranks  and  varieties  of 
mankind,  —  shall  we  be  exiled  by  any,  with  whom 
on  minor  points  we  may  differ,  from  the  benediction 
of  their  sympathy  ?  But,  we  ask,  do  we  not  ad 
here  to  the  Christian  formula  ?  Do  we  not  feel  the 
invisible,  everlasting  print  and  high  title  made  by 
the  stainless  water  of  baptism  on  our  foreheads  to 
sink  through  into  the  tables  of  our  hearts?  Has  it 
not  been  uttered  over  the  innocent  brows  of  our 
children  ?  Has  not  what,  of  all  the  sun  shines  on,  is 
most  prized  by  us,  been  placed  under  its  seal  ?  Have 
we  not  made  offerings  to  it  wrhen  our  soul  ran  out 
in  tears,  and  our  very  breath  was  prayer  ?  Has  not 
the  voice  of  venerable  servants  of  God,  mellowed 
and  sanctified  by  the  old  but  ever-fresh  affection  it 
inspires,  poured  out  at  once  the  blessing  upon  us 
and  the  dedication  into  the  ear  of  the  Most  High  ? 
And  is  it  all  in  vain  because  of  inconformity  to  the 
pattern  of  a  council's  creed,  or  mode  of  administra 
tion  unsquared  to  some  ecclesiastic's  canon  ?  Must 
the  supplications  that  have  glorified  and  exalted 
our  humanity  to  heaven  be  taken  back,  and  the 
very  witness  of  God's  spirit  insultingly  returned  to 
him  ;  and  all  that  is  most  alive  in  the  past  become 
dead,  and  what  is  fullest  to  us  of  joy  and  hope  be 
empty  and  void  ?  Shall  the  food  that  has  satisfied 
our  hearts'  hunger  be  now  at  length,  at  a  fellow- 
creature's  arbitrary  order,  thrown  away,  and  the 


214  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

embalming  that  has  soothed  our  hearts'  wounds  be 
torn  off? 

No,  not  so !  God  will  not  have  it  so.  Divine 
and  human  love,  woven  together,  and  stretching 
their  endless  web  across  temporal  bounds,  to  retain 
for  ever,  even  in  the  eternal  vastness,  what  it  has 
once  been  fastened  to,  will  consent  to  no  such  dread 
ful  disallowing  or  blasting  erasure.  The  transaction 
is  laid  away  in  the  Infinite  Mind,  that  gives  not  up, 
and  in  the  last  and  most  enduring  niche  of  human 
memory ;  and  its  pledge  is  in  that  true,  common 
formula  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  with  the 
cordial  sincerity  of  the  pronunciation  and  the  never- 
cooling  fervor  of  the  response.  Indeed,  does  not 
that  very  formula  plead  with  us  for  the  charitable 
feeling  that  is  immortally  twin  with  real  devotion? 
Does  it  not  expostulate  with  the  bigotry  that  would 
limit  its  own  gracious  extent,  and  mingle  indignant 
remonstrances  against  human  oppression  with  mild 
petitions  of  divine  mercy  ?  Yea,  it  stands  in  inef 
faceable  characters  on  the  register ;  it  maintains  its 
own  equal  dignity,  whether  in  the  simple  service 
of  a  few,  or  the  loud  and  multitudinous  anthem  of 
thousands ;  under  the  echoing  roof  of  huge  cathe 
drals,  or  beneath  the  little  spire  of  a  village  meeting 
house  ;  in  scenes  where  centuries  of  worship  heap 
their  associations  of  its  momentous  import,  or  on 
the  new-cut  soil  where  strangers  and  emigrants 
celebrate  for  themselves  and  their  little  ones  the 
ancient  faith ;  and  it  solemnly,  irresistibly  demands, 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  215 

in  its  own  unabused  simplicity,  to  roll  as  a  harmony 
of  peace  and  a  chorus  of  praise  round  the  world. 
In  its  own  intrinsic  largeness  is  this  unstinted  re 
quirement. 

May  I  say,  that,  while  musing  on  this  sublime 
formula  of  our  religion,  and  considering  its  power 
and  spread,  —  as  I  walked  on  the  shore  of  the  limit 
less  sea,  or  in  the  depth  of  interminable  woods,  or 
beneath  that  starry  vault  that  seems  so  great  when, 
beyond  the  streets  of  cities,  we  are  out  on  the  open 
floor  of  the  world,  —  I  have  felt  there  was,  in  its 
little  line,  a  strength  and  beauty  equivalent  with 
the  diffusive  splendor  around,  and  deserving  to  bje 
set  forth  in  the  threefold,  strangely-accordant  melo 
dies,  inseparable  one  from  the  other,  of  the  winds 
and  the  waves  and  the  woods.     Not  always  indeed 
does  it  have  its  due  unison.     No  doubt  it  sounds 
sweet  and  pure  on  the  mixing  tones  and   harp- 
strings  of  the  angels.     But  here  the  same  fearful 
tribute  and  strangely  conclusive  argument  of  pro- 
faneness,  which  is  paid  to  the  name  of  God,  is 
impiously  rendered  to  it  also.     In  the  oath  of  a 
blaspheming  tongue,  sometimes  in   the  protocols 
and  proclamations  and  unholy  alliances  of  corrupt 
nations,  making  it  forsooth  their  voucher;  some 
times  in  shouts  of  hostile  vengeance,  or  the  rolling 
of  rocks  on  the  heads  of  invading  foes,  has  it  been 
called.     But  this  is  comparatively  rare  and  excep 
tional.     Its  true  office  in  furthering  all  that  is  right 
and  good  in  humanity,  and  forwarding  that  reign  of 


216  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

the  Prince  of  peace  which  is  the  kingdom  of  God, 
will  prevail,  till  it  becomes  no  more  vain  on  earth 
than  it  is  in  heaveu. 

I  have  thus  spoken  of  the  Christian  baptismal 
formula,  not  in  its  application  to  that  rite  which  is 
the  emblem  of  Christian  purity,  but  in  that  idea 
which  makes  its  application  important  and  plain. 
We  shall  not,  indeed,  fail  to  see  what  a  grandeur 
and  title  to  stand  baptism  derives  from  its  special 
connection,  by  Christ,  with  this  main  formula  of 
our  faith.  I  engage  not  in  the  debate  of  minute 
questions  respecting  the  proper  mode  and  subjects 
of  this  ordinance.  Not  many  words  are  needed  to 
propound  the  truth  of  these  points.  The  charge  of 
Christ  to  baptize  all  nations,  with  no  qualification 
on  the  license  of  his  words ;  his  invitation  of  little 
children  to  himself;  the  absence  of  all  proof  that 
the  baptism  of  children  was  not  the  original  prac 
tice  ;  and  the  certainty  that,  if  not,  it  so  soon  and 
surely  arose  out  of  the  developed  consciousness  of 
the  Christian  church ;  the  symbolic  implication  of 
the  rite,  so  mtrch  stronger  for  those  born  in  the 
nurture  of  the  body  of  Christ,  than  for  those  bom  in 
Paganism  and  belonging  to  recent  half-instructed 
converts  to  the  Christian  faith ;  with  the  manifest 
intrinsic  propriety  and  incalculable  benefit  of  its 
unforbidden  observance,  are  sufficing  reasons  for 
the  offering  of  childhood  to  the  Lord ;  though,  in 
these  latter,  as  necessarily  in  the  first  times,  that 
life,  which  has  not  been  brought  to  the  altar  in 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  217 

infancy,  should  all  the  more  be  devoted  in  maturity ; 
while  it  is  not  respectful  to  the  lofty  port  and  gene 
rous  temper  of  our  religion  to  suppose  it  credible 
that  the  difference,  in  one  or  another  land,  an  arctic 
or  a  tropic  latitude,  —  of  fountain,  stream,  or  bowl, 
—  can  be  cause  of  offence  or  partial  favor  with  God ; 
that  he  will  either  be  displeased  with  the  varying 
practice  occasioned  by  imperative  diversity  of  cir 
cumstance,  or  flattered  by  the  literal  and  mechanical 
imitation  of  original  custom. 

But,  however  the  rite  of  baptism  may  be  admin 
istered,  it  has  one  and  the  same  signification,  setting 
forth  always  the  Christian  purity  in  which  those 
receiving  it  should  abide  or  be  kept.  Of  the  two 
great  ideas  of  our  religion,  Holiness  and  Love,  one 
stands  behind  the  Lord's  table,  and  the  other 
guards  the  baptismal  font.  It  is,  then,  no  slight 
thing,  when,  on  your  own  brow  you  feel,  or  offer 
the  forehead  of  your  child  to  take,  this  sign,  which 
led  on  Judaism  into  Christianity.  It  is  a  consecra 
tion  to  the  Lord.  It  is  a  vow,  that,  leaning  on 
Christ,  trusting  and  praying  for  God's  help,  you 
will,  so  far  as  in  you  lies,  live,  and  train  your 
offspring  to  live,  with  clean  hands  and  an  unspot 
ted  soul.  How,  then,  in  view  of  such  a  promise, 
does  your  baptism,  or  the  baptism  of  your  sons 
and  daughters,  look  upon  you  from  the  years  that 
are  past?  Has  any  soil  come  upon  the  water 
that  flowed  so  pure  ?  Has  it  become  corrupt  by 
touching  you  ?  Have  you  preserved,  in  those  born 
19 


218  CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM. 

to  you,  the  innocence  which  was  transparent  as 
itself  when  its  drops  were  sprinkled  ?  Oh  !  there 
is  in  the  world  nothing  sadder  than  to  see  old  or 
young  brought,  by  a  worldly  will  or  depraved  ex 
ample,  to  regard  this  act  of  dedication  as  but  a 
customary,  unmeaning  incident  in  their  existence, 
without  virtue  to  hold  them  to  any  fixed  principle  ; 
and  so,  like  ships  parting  their  rotten  cables,  borne 
into  straits  of  temptation,  or  plunging  in  the  whirl 
pools  of  vice.  God  notes  the  sacrilege.  He  records 
the  violation  of  a  pledge  which  we  may  not  even 
care  to  remember ;  and  who  shall  say  whether  for- 
getfulness  of  obligation,  or  bold  departure  from  our 
engagements,  be  in  his  sight  the  greater  guilt? 
Yet  the  sin  and  woe  involved  in  breaking  our  agree 
ment,  or  being  unfaithful  to  our  charge,  must  not 
hinder  us  from  using  for  ourselves,  and  for  our 
posterity,  the  means  of  sanctity  and  improvement 
which  he  has  provided.  For  how  greatly  blessed 
to  the  world's  purification  this  baptismal  bowl  has 
been !  How  it  has  washed  the  very  hearts  of  men ! 
What  stains,  that  would  yield  to  no  other  water 
or  earthly  fire,  have  left  the  soul  under  its  gentle 
stream !  Like  a  river  falling  from  the  skies,  its 
mild  outpouring  has  at  once  cleansed  millions  from 
iniquity,  and  defended  new  generations  against  evil. 
Let  us  still  stand  under  it ! 

However  parting  in  methods  of  outward  proce 
dure,  let  us  also  abide  together  by  the  unchange 
able  Christian  formula  of  baptism.  Let  it  put  its 


CHRISTIAN    FORMULA    OF    BAPTISM.  219 

luminous  lesson  into  our  minds,  and  its  warm  em 
brace  about  our  hearts.  Let  us  keep  it  closer  and 
dearer  to  us  than  the  Jews  did  their  sacred  sen 
tences  on  their  frontlets  and  phylacteries.  Let  it 
be  deeper  than  the  palm  of  our  hands,  or  a  signet 
on  our  head.  Let  us  hold  any  disposition  to  depart 
from  or  disuse  it,  as  the  sad  indication  of  an  unwise 
judgment  laying  aside  the  Christian  standard  to 
rear  a  flag  of  its  own.  Let  it  mould  our  spiritual 
frame  into  reverence  and  love,  and  have  an  issue  of 
righteousness  and  goodness  in  our  life.  Let  it 
inform  our  earthly  existence  with  a  heavenly  mean 
ing,  till  we  reach  that  heavenly  country,  where,  by 
virtue  of  the  helps  here  vouchsafed,  we  shall  join 
in  yet  more  vivid  and  expressive  converse,  to  com 
municate  with  one  another  in  the  same  glorious, 
infinite  reality. 


220 


DISCOURSE   XV. 


THE    RELIGION    OF   FORM,   OF   DOCTRINE, 
AND    OF    SPIRIT. 

John  iv.  23.  —  BUT  THE  HOUR  is  COMING,  AND  NOW  is,  WHEN  THE 

TRUE  WORSHIPPERS  SHALL  WORSHIP  THE  FATHER   IN   SPIRIT   AND 
IN   TRUTH. 

So  replies  Jesus  to  the  Samaritan  woman's  sugges 
tion  of  the  dispute  between  her  countrymen  and 
the  Jews  as  to  the  proper  place  of  worship.  He 
does  not,  in  using  such  language,  discourage  the 
setting  apart  of  particular  places  and  times  for  wor 
ship  ;  but  contradicts  the  idea  that  any  one  spot  on 
the  earth's  surface,  whether  it  were  a  mountain-top 
or  a  magnificent  temple,  was  only  or  peculiarly  fit 
for  offering  it  to  God.  Sincere  worship,  being  a 
thing  of  truth  and  spirit,  he  declares  could  be  ren 
dered  anywhere ;  but  he  does  not  assert  it  should 
be  rendered  nowhere.  He  himself  chose  special 
places  for  his  private  devotions,  and  went  up  with 
others  to  public  dedicated  courts  to  join  in  their 
solemn,  seasonable  instruction  and  praise,  while  he 
bore  ever  in  his  heart  the  universal,  eternal  spirit  of 
thanksgiving  and  adoration.  In  discrowning  Geri- 
zim  and  Jerusalem  of  their  exclusive  glory,  he  but 


THE    RELIGION    OF    FORM,   ETC.  221 

meant  to  say  to  the  woman,  "  There  is  no  mono 
poly  of  sacredness  within  the  precincts  either  of 
your  nation  or  mine:  men  shall  not  be  for  ever 
bound  to  travel  from  all  quarters  to  our  capitol  or 
to  your  hill-top  after  God ;  but  hereafter  and  very 
soon  there  shall  be  sanctuaries  of  homage  reared 
and  frequented,  with  no  limit  of  territory  or  num 
bers,  wherein  to  seek  the  Most  High  whom  I  have 
truly  revealed ;  this  now-confined  consecration  shall 
spread  over  the  earth ;  men  shall  kneel  alone  or  to 
gether,  and  nothing  but  the  secret  spirit  of  their 
private  or  united  devotions  be  regarded  by  Him 
who  is  a  Spirit." 

To  understand  Christ  otherwise,  as  frowning 
upon  all  but  a  purely  individual  reverence  of  the 
Almighty,  would  make  him  to  deny  that  social 
character  of  religion,  which  requires  some  actual 
outward  manner  of  proceeding,  to  disallow  his  own 
personal  example,  and  to  come  in  conflict  with  his 
expressed  purpose  of  building  up  a  church.  We 
must,  however,  interpret  him  as  warning  us  against 
putting  the  essence  of  piety  in  externals,  whatever 
externals  may  be  needed  to  conduct  its  exercises 
decently  and  in  order;  and  this  conclusion  may 
lead  us  to  consider,  in  their  relation  to  one  another, 
three  kinds  of  religion  existing  in  the  world,  —  the 
religion  of  Form,  the  religion  of  Doctrine,  and  the 
religion  of  Spirit.  These  three  are,  of  course,  cha 
racterized,  not  according  to  their  only,  but  their 
severally  predominating,  element. 
19* 


222        THE    RELIGION    OF    FORM,   OF    DOCTRINE, 

The  religion  of  Form  magnifies  the  importance  of 
every  thing  ontward  that  may  be  brought  into  rela 
tion  with  worship.  It  studies  an  imposing  effect 
in  the  building  and  decoration  of  the  temple.  It 
multiplies  rites  and  ceremonies,  repeats  them  often, 
lengthens  them  out  greatly,  clothes  them  with  a 
mysterious  significance,  and  makes  them  the  only 
or  necessary  channels  of  grace  and  salvation.  With 
especial  carefulness  it  arranges  the  modes  of  prayer, 
attaches  a  serious  consequence  to  their  smallest 
particulars  of  phrase  and  manner,  gathers  the  sup 
plications  suited  to  all  occasions  into  a  book, 
and  hardly  trusts  the  heart  to  open  its  own  vo 
lume  in  any  immediate  outbreak  and  ejaculation 
to  Him  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens.  Of  such  mo 
ment  does  it  hold  an  assured  propriety  and  perfect 
decorum  in  approaching  the  throne  of  grace,  that 
it  would  prescribe  the  very  terms  and  measures  of 
the  human  soul's  devoutness  to  its  Author,  and 
dictate  the  method  and  speech  of  its  love.  Were 
we  to  read  off  from  a  printe'd  page  our  respect  and 
affection  to  a  friend,  it  would  seem  but  freezing 
coldness  and  cruel  affront.  But  so  vast  it  reckons 
the  difference  between  the  human  and  the  divine, 
that  it  would  shut  up  to  the  lines  of  long  tradition, 
and  the  venerable  ink  of  past  centuries,  all  the 
joint,  if  not  the  solitary,  outpourings  of  the  bosom 
to  the  Deity.  Nor,  strange  as  this  may  seem,  does 
it  want  plausible,  if  not  convincing,  arguments  of 
uniformity  and  familiarity  in  favor  of  its  course. 


AND    OF    SPIRIT.  223 

It  would,  moreover,  link  together  the  members  of 
the  priesthood,  by  which  its  ceremonial  is  carried 
on,  in  an  unbroken  continuance  and  apostolic  suc 
cession  ;  and  introduce  them  after  a  way  in  all 
respects  adjusted  to  invariable  conditions,  pre 
ordaining  their  whole  procedure  through  each  suc 
cessive  ordinance,  and  descending  to  fashion  the 
very  style  and  settle  the  color  of  their  dress. 

I  speak  of  this  religion  in  description,  not  in 
reproach.  It  lacks  not  a  kind  of  philosophy  in  its 
support.  It  operates  powerfully  on  a  multitude  of 
minds.  Men  are  wrought  upon  through  the  senses  ; 
and  it  would  take  the  tempted  and  wandering  senses 
captive  with  holy  sights  and  sounds.  Men  are  crea 
tures  of  association ;  and  it  would  bind  them  in 
cords  of  sacred  associations,  that  shall  be  stronger 
than  the  bands  of  wickedness.  The  sound  of  a 
church-bell  melts  the  bloody  conqueror  in  a  hun 
dred  tights  ;  and  the  sight  of  a  procession  enthralls 
the  Protestant  thinker,  whose  boyhood  carried  trains 
and  censers  in  the  cathedrals  of  Rome.  Men  are 
not  apt  to  weigh  the  force  of  labored  logic  and 
learned  abstractions ;  and  this  religion  of  form 
would  not  trust  them  to  the  precarious  and  fugitive 
reasonings  of  their  own  minds,  but  hold  them  fast 
within  the  firm  enclosure  of  manifest  signs,  ap 
pointed  seasons,  and  oft-renewed  festivals.  It 
builds  a  splendid  prison-house,  which,  if  it  hinders 
the  eye  from  roaming  all  over  the  world,  directs  its 
gaze,  through  narrow  openings,  upward  to  the  sky. 


224        THE    RELIGION    OF    FORM,    OF    DOCTRINE, 

Very  different  from  the  religion  of  form  is  that 
of  Doctrine.  It  simplifies  the  ceremonial  of  wor 
ship  ;  makes  it  plain  and  flexible.  It  is  content 
with  a  cheap  and  unadorned  structure  for  its  sanc 
tuary.  It  asks  none  but  ascertained  intellectual 
and  moral  qualifications  in  its  preachers.  It  re 
gards  Christianity,  not  as  an  ecclesiastical  institu 
tion,  but  a  scheme  of  truth  for  the  regeneration  of 
the  world.  It  is  chiefly  anxious  to  settle  the  exact 
meaning  of  the  message  from  God,  and  fix  the  pre 
cise  grounds  of  his  salvation.  Any  mistake  or 
misconstruction  of  these,  it  deems  fatal.  It  re 
duces  the  divine  revelation  into  creeds,  makes 
subscription  to  them  the  condition  of  Christian 
fellowship,  and  their  denial  a  heresy  excluding  at 
once  from  the  church  on  earth,  and  the  felicities  of 
heaven. 

Lastly,  the  religion  of  Spirit  makes  nothing  es 
sential  but  the  principles  of  love  and  righteousness 
in  the  heart.  Ordinances  it  considers  as  mainly 
efficacious  in  the  dispositions  with  which  they  are 
approached,  and  agrees  with  the  old  Confession  of 
Faith  in  esteeming  the  truth  of  doctrines  valuable 
only  "  in  order  to  goodness." 

Now,  without  further  delineation,  I  shall  presume 
that  this  last  is  substantially  the  religious  position 
of  those  whom  I  address.  Character  is  with  us  the 
one  thing  needful.  As  we  maintain  and  profess, 
worship  consists  not  in  the  place  where  we  bow, 
or  in  the  words  we  say,  or  in  the  official  persons 


AND    OF    SPIRIT.  225 

we  follow.  It  is  in  no  voice  of  confession,  choral 
harmony,  or  tone  of  a  hosanna;  but  only  in  the 
lowly  soul's  bend  and  whisper  or  cry  to  the  unseen 
Creator.  We  see  the  glory  of  the  altar  in  no  costly 
decoration,  but  in  the  transfiguring  presence  of 
God  lighting  up  the  sacrifice  through  the  expand 
ing  hearts  of  the  worshippers,  and  in  the  common 
glow  of  a  congregation's  praise,  clothing  the  plain 
est  building  with  a  dignity  as  great  as  ever  hung 
on  massive  walls,  or  rose  through  huge  tower  and 
along  soaring  spire.  Nor  does  a  complicated  sys 
tem  of  intellectual  belief,  any  more  than  an  impos 
ing  and  ostentatious  service,  win  our  regard.  We 
strive  not  after  the  sense  of  God's  word  through 
a  battle  of  proof-texts,  by  conflict  or  comparison  of 
passages ;  but  to  our  eyes  the  great  truths  of  the 
gospel  lie  broadcast  on  the  page  of  Scripture,  to  be 
transferred  by  the  unlettered  to  the  tables  in  the 
breast. 

Such  is  our  position.  But,  in  regard  to  any  posi 
tion  which  we  may  assume,  the  question  is,  Do  we 
sustain  it  ?  The  question,  in  this  particular  case,  is 
likely  to  be  severe  and  piercing.  Pitying  and  re 
jecting  the  monstrous  manifold  growth  of  formali 
ties,  enjoined  as  of  vital  consequence  through  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  church,  are  any  of  us  the 
poorest  formalists  by  being  listless  observers  of  our 
short  and  simple  ritual  ?  Seeing  no  miraculous 
transformation  of  the  consecrated  elements,  do  we 
yet  exchange  the  solemn  mystery  of  our  fellow- 


226        THE    RELIGION    OF    FORM,    OF    DOCTRINE, 

Christians  for  a  hollow  and  heartless  show  ? 
Slighting  the  fixed  posture,  monotonous  accent, 
and  unvarying  phraseology  of  others'  devotions, 
does  our  theory  of  spontaneous  veneration  degene 
rate  into  the  worst  of  repetitions,  as  meagre  as  it  is 
lawless,  and  as  inconsiderable  in  honesty  as  it  is 
small  in  pretence  ?  Grandly  saying  that  the  uni 
verse  is  God's  temple,  what  does  it  signify  if  we  do 
not  prostrate  ourselves  therein  ?  Fondly  intimating 
that  the  sabbath-day  is  no  more  holy  than  any 
other,  what  matters  it  if  all  our  time  be  not  holy  ? 
Arguing  that  not  a  few  official  personages  alone, 
but  every  believing  soul,  may  preach  the  gospel, 
what  is  the  argument  from  our  lips  worth  if  we  are 
no  faithful  preachers  ?  Re-echoing  the  shallow 
maxim,  No  matter  what  a  man's  creed  is  if  his  life 
be  right,  —  as  though  there  were  not  some  connec 
tion  between  his  creed  and  his  conduct,  —  with 
what  face  do  we  presume  to  offer  a  life  not  second 
ing  the  proposition?  Ah!  it  is  a  sad  thought,  that 
there  may  be  those  making  much  of  little  subtle 
ties  of  speculation,  or  as  superstitious  in  their  holy- 
days  as  ever  was  a  Jew  about  his  new  moons ; 
yet,  under  this  moral  disadvantage,  sincerer  wor 
shippers  of  Almighty  God  than  we,  with  our 
intuitions  of  his  everlasting  truth,  or  our  exalted 
sense  of  his  unbounded  glory.  How  many  a  man, 
with  stout  complacency  and  delightful  self-flattery, 
affirms  the  seat  of  religion  to  be  in  the  heart, 
when  he  himself,  more  than  his  creed-making  or 


AND    OF    SPIRIT.  227 

idolatrous  neighbors,  is  confined  to  the  cold  rea 
sonings  of  the  head !  A  poor,  lifeless  fetich  may 
be  made  out  of  our  brain,  as  well  as  by  the  igno 
rant  savage  from  wood  or  stone. 

Such  for  us  is  the  issue.     It  follows  upon  our 
position.     It  indicates  the  point  of  our  obligation. 
It  applies  the  test  which  we  elect,  and  calls  for  sen 
tence  upon  us  by  the  laws  we  have  glorified.     God 
grant  that  the  sentence  put  us  not  to  shame,  or  that 
shame  awaken  us  to  the  honor  of  consistency  on 
the  basis  by  which  we  have  determined  to  abide, 
instead  of  finally  confounding  us  at  the  judgment- 
day  !     Perhaps  we  shall  conclude,  that,  however  it 
may  be  with  others  in  their  theory  of  form  or  of 
doctrine,  we  carry  our  theory  of  spirit  far  enough, 
far  as   God's  word  or  man's  nature,  or  our  own 
capacity  for  pure  religion,  will  justly  suffer.  Perhaps 
we  shall  decide,  that  our  error  is  not  likely  to  be  an 
extravagant  over-heeding  of  religious  institutions; 
that  it  will  not  do  for  us  to  neglect  the  few  and 
simple  means  which  we  own ;  and  that  nothing  but 
a  religious  vanity  could  lead  any  of  us  to  suppose 
ourselves  so  spiritual  that  we  can  safely  put  them 
off  with  the  occasional  half-respect  of  weary  and 
inanimate  souls.     If  angels  and  archangels,  cheru 
bim  and  seraphim,  are  engaged  in  expressions  of 
their  homage  in  heaven,  we  may  not  despise  the 
steps  of  adoration  by  which  we  are  permitted  to  rise 
from  the  earth.     The  act  is  not  the  end,  but  may 
lead  us  thereto,  as  the  inferior  instrument  of  iron 


228  THE    RELIGION    OF    FORM,   ETC. 

is  necessary  to  lay  open  the  precious  mine  of  gold. 
If  our  spirituality  be  but  an  excuse,  and  our  heart 
occupied  with  the  false  gods  of  this  world  instead 
of  the  living  presence  of  the  Holy  One,  we  are  of 
all  believers  most  miserable ;  and  the  most  ignorant 
and  infatuated  worshipper  in  the  Catholic  or  the 
most  bigoted  and  uncharitable  devotee,  compassing 
sea  and  land  for  one  proselyte  in  the  Protestant 
church,  will  enter  the  kingdom  before  us. 

In  fine,  of  the  three  religions  described,  no  one 
can  be  true  to  human  nature  as  against  the  rest, 
but  all  as  fitly  united.     Thought,  feeling,  and  ex 
pression  go  together,  re-act  on  and  produce  each 
other ;  as  heat,  growing  intense,  sparkles  into  fire, 
and  the  nature  of  fire  is  to  spread  and  communicate 
new  heat.     The  tide  of  emotion  in  the  heart  swells 
from  sublime  contemplation,  and  from  the  over 
burdened  breast  ebbs  into  expression ;  but  that  very 
ebb,  like  the  ocean's,  is  to  bring  back  the  flood. 
Only  let  the  manifestation  of  our  religion  be  no 
feigned  warmth  or  wilful  ostentation,  but  the  real 
kindling   and  irrepressible   overflow  of   our   soul. 
Let  it  be,  as  it  was  with  Christ,  according  to  these 
illustrations,  but  the  rise  and  scintillation  of  ele 
ments  unfathomable  in  their  depth,  boundless  in 
their  heaving,  and  of  a  power  and  diffusion  to  pu 
rify  all  nature,  and  wrap  the  universe  in  their  genial 
fostering  flame.     Then,  according  to  his  prophecy, 
spirit  and  truth  and  worship  well-proportioned  will 
be  with  us  one  and  inseparable. 


229 


DISCOURSE   XVI. 


THE    COMMON    GROUND    OF    MOSAIC    AND 
CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP. 


Exod.  iii.  5,  and  Acts   vii.   33.  —  THE    PLACE    WHEREON    THOU 

STANDEST   IS   HOLY   GEOUND. 

THIS  remarkable  address  to  Moses,  recorded  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  quoted  in  the  New  by  the  first 
martyr  Stephen,  that  he  might  show  to  his  coun 
trymen  the  divine  connection  between  the  religion 
of  their  fathers  and  the  Christian  faith,  may  be  pro 
perly  used  to  express  an  idea  common  to  both 
economies  of  the  divine  revelation.  Why  was  the 
ground  where  Moses  stood  called  holy  ?  It  could 
have  been  made  such  by  none  of  the  ordinary  asso 
ciations  or  conventional  ideas  of  sanctity. 

There  was  no  temple,  no  altar,  no  religious  con 
gregation,  no  solemn  service.  Moses  was  but  keep 
ing  Jethro's  flock,  which  he  had  led  far  away  from 
the  haunts  of  men,  where  no  path  ran,  no  dwelling 
stood,  even  to  the  back-side  of  the  desert,  till  he 
came  to  the  wild  and  woody  mountain  of  Horeb. 
There,  while  his  eye  followed  the  sheep,  and  his 
thoughts,  kindling  as  he  mused,  rose  to  him,  — 
20 


THE    COMMON    GROUND    OF 

"  By  whose  strength  the  mountains  stand, 
God  of  eternal  power,"  — 

the  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  to  him  in  a  flame  of 
fire  out  of  the  midst  of  a  bush,  burning  but  uncon- 
sumed ;  and  God  called  to  him,  saying,  "  Put  off 
thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet;  for  the  place  whereon 
thou  standest  is  holy  ground."  As  priests,  from 
time  immemorial,  have  performed  religious  services 
and  gone  up  to  their  holy  places  with  their  feet 
bare,  —  this  most  ancient  traditionary  custom  being 
observed  among  the  Mahometans  and  other  nations 
even  to  this  day,  —  so  Moses  was  required  to  give 
the  same  signal  mark  of  reverence  and  awe. 

But  the  question  recurs,  Wherefore  was  that 
place  so  holy?  Because,  though  no  shrine  of  wood 
or  stone  had  ever  been  reared  there,  and  no  sacrifice 
had  blazed  and  smoked  up  to  heaven,  but  all  was 
bare  creation,  just  as  it  was  left  under  the  hand  of 
the  Maker,  yet  the  Omnipresent  One  had  appeared 
to  his  servant.  So  every  place  where  we  may  meet 
and  commune  with  God  is  holy  ground.  This 
house  of  our  united  solemnities  of  worship  we  call 
God's  sanctuary,  and  so  it  is ;  but  not  such  a 
house  alone  does  his  presence  exclusively  hallow. 
As  a  building  dedicated  to  his  service,  we  should 
regard  it  tenderly,  enter  and  leave  it  with  reve 
rence  ;  but  our  reverence  and  adoration  are  not,  as 
we  go,  to  be  slipped  like  loose  garments  from  our 
soul,  nor,  merely  like  a  priest's  robes,  put  super 
ficially  on  again  as  we  come  back ;  but  to  be  con- 


MOSAIC    AND    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.  23i 

tinually  with  us.  As  the  flame  in  the  burning 
bush  answered  to  a  flame  in  Moses'  heart,  so,  wher 
ever  this  secret  coal  burns  on  the  unseen  altar, 
which  is  more  observed  by  God  than  any  outward 
and  cubic  frame  hewn  from  rock  and  hung  with 
jewels,  —  there,  in  the  bosom  of  his  creature,  will 
he  give  the  answering  witness  of  his  spirit. 

Under  the  influence  of  Christianity,  the  old  super 
stition  of  a  peculiar  and  merely  local  holiness  is 
passing  away.  Once  the  temple  was  a  refuge  from 
the  pursuit  of  justice.  Even  the  robber  and  mur 
derer  could  not  be  torn  from  the  horns  of  the  altar. 
But  now,  to  us,  God's  temple  is  the  universe ;  the 
place  where  the  deed  of  violence  and  of  blood  is 
done  is  a  holy  place,  which  that  deed  profanes.  It 
we  swear,  sacred  walls  echo  our  oath.  If  we  lie,  it 
is  before  the  pure  Observer.  If  we  steal,  our  theft 
is  sacrilegious,  within  the  limits  of  the  divine  dwell 
ing.  If  we  lay  an  injurious  hand  upon  a  fellow- 
creature,  we  violate  sacred  instruments  as  much  as 
Nebuchadnezzar  did  when  he  took  the  priestly  ves 
sels  from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  or  Belshazzar  and 
his  company  when  they  drank  from  them  the  wine 
of  revelry  and  intoxication.  If,  by  any  cruelty,  we 
shorten  our  brother's  life,  the  voice  of  his  blood  shall 
cry  to  God  from  the  ground.  Yea,  the  earth,  being 
all  "  holy  ground,"  —  the  earth  that  has  opened  her 
mouth  to  drink  up  the  stream  of  slaughter,  or  has 
covered  with  her  fine  dust  the  footprints  of  wicked 
ness,  or  buried  in  her  graves  the  signs  of  any  crime 


232  THE    COMMON    GROUND    OF 

or  injury,  —  shall  be  a  witness  against  the  guilty, 
and  show  to  the  All-seeing  the  marks  of  her  own 
desecration. 

So,  too,  every  good  deed  wherever  done,  every 
right  word  wherever  spoken,  shall  be  as  sacred  to 
God,  and  soar  up  as  soon  to  his  acceptance,  as 
though  it  were  chanted  here  in  an  anthem  or  per 
formed  in  a  religious  rite.  Think  you  the  pure 
meditations  of  Moses  in  Midian,  or  his  lowly  ac 
knowledgments  of  an  Almighty  Providence,  found 
a  less  willing  Deity  than  if  they  had  been  poured 
out  with  all  the  ceremonials  of  knife  and  flame  and 
victim,  or  than  any  of  the  psalms  which  the  Levites 
sang  within  the  marble  columns  and  the  gold- 
plaited,  glistering  walls  of  the  temple  that  after 
wards  rose  at  Jerusalem ?  "I  tell  you,  nay."  The 
burning  bush  upon  the  hill-side,  with  the  savage 
waste  of  the  surrounding  plain,  was  as  noble  a 
shrine  as  should  ever  be  carved  from  granite  or 
tower  with  rafter  and  pinnacle. 

It  does  not  demand  any  great  and  noted  place 
or  vast  assemblage  to  give  fit  room  and  opportu 
nity  for  your  accents  of  good  cheer  and  sympathy 
with  your  fellow-men  or  your  heroic  achievements. 
"  The  place  where  thou  standest  is  holy  ground." 
Ay,  and  the  truth  thou  tellest,  the  righteous  act 
thou  doest,  hallows  it.  The  maintenance  of  just 
ice,  the  defence  of  liberty,  the  sacrifices  of  love, 
will  give  it  sanctity;  be  it  plain  or  hill,  shore  or 
stream,  or  the  tossing  waves  of  the  sea.  Thermo- 


MOSAIC    AND    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.  233 

pylaB  and  Plymouth  Rock  and  Bunker  Hill  were 
not  famous  places,  but  made  such  by  patriotic 
devotion  and  religious  self-denial.  The  pillow 
where  the  good  man,  like  Jacob,  sleeps,  though  it 
be  but  as  the  cold,  gray  stones  of  Haran,  shall  have 
angels  ascending  and  descending  upon  it.  When 
the  famous  Hungarian,  who  has  so  beyond  all  other 
men  of  late  divided  the  opinion  of  the  world,  on 
resigning  his  office  of  governor  to  become  a  simple 
citizen,  declared,  "  In  my  opinion,  war  is  but  the 
means,  and  not  the  end,  of  the  country's  salvation ; 
and,  unless  I  see  a  probability  of  attaining  the  object 
I  have  at  heart,  I  will  never  sanction  war  for  its  own 
sake  alone,  nor  give  my  countenance  to  any  forced 
levy,"  —  the  splendors  of  victory  and  the  clouds  of 
defeat  alike  pass  away  before  the  glory  of  that  hu 
mane  sentiment,  which  illumines  the  political  coun 
cil-chamber,  the  still  camp,  and  the  smoking  field 
of  battle. 

The  place  which  we  stand  on,  wherever  it  be,  we 
may  hallow.  The  spot  where  we  resisted  tempta 
tion,  shed  tears  of  repentance,  showed  great  forgive 
ness  or  noble  generosity,  forsook  an  evil  habit, 
helped  a  needy  sufferer,  lightened  any  human  heart, 
or  gave  our  own  heart  to  God,  is  holy.  Wherever 
we  are,  God  is  with  us ;  spiritual  beings,  angel- 
spectators,  as  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  encompass  us. 
Only  the  body,  which  we  wear  as  a  veil,  hangs 
between ;  and  their  voice  should  ever  be  heard  in 
our  ear,  harmonious  with  the  voice  of  God,  saying 
20* 


234  THE    COMMON    GROUND    OF 

to  us,  "  The   place  where   thou  standest  is  holy 
ground." 

"  The  place  where  thou  standest,"  is  it  not  a 
place,  which,  by  the  creative  power,  working  for 
ages  through  shifting  land  and  sea,  has  been  built 
up  for  thee  to  stand  upon,  and  do  God's  will  ?  No 
place  to  take  his  name  in  vain,  or,  with  indecent 
jesting,  affront  his  purity,  but  a  place  rather  to 
worship  him  ;  as  Madame  Guyon  tells  us,  finding, 
in  her  journey  on  the  river  Seine,  a  dry  and  solitary 
place,  she  sought  intercouse  with  God.  As  in  the 
"  great  sheet "  let  down  to  Peter,  "  wherein  were  all 
manner  of  beasts,  creeping  things,  and  fowls  of  the 
air,"  there  was  yet  nothing  "common  or  unclean;" 
so  there  is  no  common  or  unclean  place  in  God's 
creation ;  no  solitude,  where,  as  in  a  covert,  we 
can  with  impunity  bestow  our  folly  or  our  sin  ;  no 
fit  place  for  .the  deceiver  or  oppressor,  for  theft  or 
piracy,  for  the  secret  meeting  of  the  duellist  or  pro 
fligate.  The  place  where  corruptjon  is  established 
is  a  stain  on  the  earth.  The  building  in  which  a 
murder  has  been  done,  has  to  the  traveller's  eye 
blood  running  down  its  walls.  The  scene  of  a 
brawl,  be  it  the  common  street  or  the  floor  of 
the  national  council,  is  desecrated.  Our  inordinate 
passions,  our  mean  propensities,  can  find  no  proper 
lodging  in  God's  world.  The  temple  of  Mammon ! 
There  is  legitimately  no  such  place.  The  purlieus 
of  vice !  Vice  is  not  the  rightful  occupant,  how 
ever  long  her  precedent,  or  firm  her  prescription. 


MOSAIC    AND    CHRISTIAN    WORSHIP.  235 

The  saloons  of  fashion !  Fashion  is  a  usurper,  if 
she  presume  to  set  up  vanity  and  excess,  or  dis 
place  modesty,  simplicity,  and  truth.  The  "haunts" 
of  iniquity,  the  retirements  of  sin,  the  most  confined 
apartments  of  plot  and  base  conspiracy,  the  privacy 
of  the  threatener  or  defrauder,  the  tyranny  of  the 
oppressor,  the  middle  passage  of  the  slave,  God, 
the  holy  Inspector,  Disapprover,  is  in  them  all,  wit 
nessing  the  profanation  of  his  presence  and  works. 
So,  there  is  no  place  which  ;we  cannot  hallow 
and  dignify  by  wisdom  and  virtue,  even  as  we 
hallow  the  -name  of  God,  If  Paul  stand  on 
Mars'  Hill,  it  shall  be  for  ever  marked,  not  as  the 
place  of  criminal  arraignment  or  warlike  debate, 
but  as  the  pulpit  of  the  sublimest  of  all  dis 
courses  about  the  nature  of  God,  and  the  duty 
and  destiny  of  man.  Shall  not  our  Master's  own 
life  teach  us  ?  Not  alone  synagogue  and  temple, 
but  the  mountains  of  Judea,  were  hallowed  by 
his  prayers.  The  Sea  of  Galilee  was  a  little 
basin :  Jesus  sailed  over  it,  and  wrought  works  of 
mercy  upon  its  waters  and  by  its  shores ;  and  it 
swelled  into  a  'magnitude  beyond  lakes  and  oceans. 
Gethsemane  was  only  a  spot,  "  so  called : "  the 
sweat  of  Christ's  sacred  sorrow  fell  upon  it,  and  all 
earth's  gardens  beside  cannot  approach  its  ever 
green  renown.  Calvary  was  but  a  low,  hardly 
distinguishable  summit,  and  Golgotha  "the  place 
of  a  skull : "  his  precious  blood  ran  down  there,  and' 
they  overtop  Ararat  and  Andes  in  the  admiration 


THE    COMMON    GROUND    OF 

of  the  world.  Truly,  the  place  where  the  Son  of 
God  stood  or  hung  was  "  holy."  Though  vile  feet 
had  trodden  it,  and  bloody  hands  of  sin  had  lifted 
him  up ;  and  treachery  was  near,  and  shouts  of 
wicked  vengeance  rent  the  air ;  and  "  the  potter's 
field  to  bury  strangers  in,"  purchased  with  the  price 
of  his  betrayal,  was  hard  by,  —  it  was  still  holy, 
hallowed  by  his  tears  and  groans,  his  godlike  pa 
tience,  dying  requests,  and  divine  submission. 

There  is  no  place  in  our  most  familiar  know 
ledge,  which  association  and  the  great  providential 
events  of  life  may  not  solemnize  and  endear  un 
speakably.  A  house  is  built  for  a  common  dwell 
ing.  While  nothing  but  the  supply  of  outward 
wants,  or  the  ordinary  and  pleasant  intercourse  of 
domestic  greetings,  has  transpired  within,  it  still 
lacks  the  strongest  tie  of  local  interest  upon  us, 
though  all  the  burnish  of  novelty  and  the  last 
touches  of  art  gleam  from  its  chambers  and  doors. 
But  let  God  come,  as  really  as  though  in  a  "burn 
ing  bush,"  to  visit,  with  mighty  joy  or  sorrow,  the 
affections  which,  as  yet  ignorant  of  their  own 
strength,  abide  and  slumber  there ;  and  the  place 
shall  no  longer  seem  to  show  the  hand  of  the  cun 
ning  artificer  that  built  or  adorned  it,  but  shall 
become  holy.  Let  painful  sickness  come,  an  angel 
of  the  Lord,  as  truly  as  that  appearing  to  the  pro 
phet,  bringing  at  last  death  in  its  train  ;  and  how  is 
the  room,  which  as  a  king  he  has  entered,  hallowed 
as  the  gate  of  heaven  !  Yes :  the  spot  where  one 


MOSAIC   AND    CHRISTIAN   WORSHIP.  237 

dear  to  us  has  lain  and  languished  in  disease,  yet 
patiently  borne  the  Father's  hand ;  where  we  have 
seen  the  thin  fingers  clasped,  and  the  silent  lips 
move  in  supplication  ;  and  witnessed  that  last  will 
ing  struggle,  which  is  but  the  spirit's  effort  to  leave 
its  fetters,  and  ascend  the  skies,  —  oh !  that  spot 
needs  no  set  dedication,  or  touch  of  priestly  hand, 
to  make  it  for  ever  holy.  So,  if,  ill  what  we  spe 
cially  call  the  house  of  God,  peace  and  consolation 
have  reached  us ;  if  light  has  fallen  from  it  upon 
the  ways  of  Providence ;  or  if  in  it  the  alarming 
trump  of  duty  has  been  blown  in  our  ears,  by  no 
mechanical  or  superstitious  respect,  but  a  real 
veneration,  —  shall  it  be  to  us  "  holy  ground." 

Nay,  the  whole  sphere  of  influence,  through 
which  we  have  with  fidelity  moved  and  toiled, 
shall  receive  continual  influence  from  us,  even  in 
our  own  stillness  and  retirement ;  as,  after  the  little 
insect  has  faithfully,  according  to  the  law  in  its 
instinct  which  its  Maker  gave,  woven  its  broad 
web,  it  has  only  to  stand  at  the  centre  to'  make 
every  thread  tremble.  When  John,  in  the  Revela 
tion,  beheld  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  he  "saw  no 
temple  therein."  All,  wide  as  the  presence  of  God 
and  the  Lamb,  was  temple.  So,  in  the  same  pure 
and  sanctifying  presence,  let  all  on  earth  be  temple 
to  us,  the  place  where  we  stand  "  holy  ground ; " 
and  then,  as  the  old  court  of  the  Gentiles  joined  to 
the  house  of  God,  this  world,  shall  be  the  entrance 
of  an  eternal  sanctuary. 


238 


DISCOURSE   XVII. 


CHRIST'S   NEW   ORDER   OF   NOBILITY. 

Acts  xvii.  11. — THESE  WERE  MORE  NOBLE  THAN  THOSE  IN  THESSA- 
LONICA,  IN  THAT  THEY  RECE1YED  THE  "WORD  WITH  ALL  READI 
NESS  OF  MIND. 

NOBILITY  of  rank,  a  thing  so  much  thought  of  in 
all  the  world,  was  especially  a  point  of  pride  with 
the  Jews ;  even  the  poorest  Israelite  in  the  syna 
gogue,  to  use  the  language  of  one  of  their  writers, 
being  held  a  gentleman  by  birth.  The  declaration, 
then,  that  the  Bereans  showed  more  nobleness  in 
giving  Christianity  a  hearing  than  the  Thessalo- 
nians  in  driving  its  preachers  away,  would  go  at 
once  to  the  heart.  Moreover,  this  feeling  of  national 
and  personal  dignity  could  have  been  nowhere  more 
sensitive  and  jealously  alive  than  in  such  places  as 
Thessalonica  and  Berea,  having  a  mixed  popula 
tion  of  rival  races,  —  Jews,  Greeks,  and  Romans,  — 
defying  each  other  to  a  comparison  of  the  degrees 
of  honor  :  the  Roman,  from  the  Tiber,  holding  forth 
his  proud  scale  of  aristocracy  running  up  from  the 
centurion  to  Caesar;  his  Grecian  competitor,  emi 
grant  from  Athens  or  Corinth,  talking  of  the  kings 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.         239 

and  archons  of  an  elder  glory ;  while  the  Hebrew, 
advancing  with  a  still  superior  pretension,  might 
trace  even  further  back  his  divine  genealogy,  on  the 
line  of  priests,  inspired  prophets,  and  patriarchs. 
But  then,  in  the  midst  of  all,  came  upon  the  stage 
the  Christian  teacher,  affirming  that,  to  Greek  and 
Roman  and  Jew,  a  yet  finer  nobility  was  offered 
than  to  be  of  princely  dynasty,  of  the  imperial  court, 
or  of  the  seed  of  Abraham. 

In  fact,  among  other  things,  in  the  vast  revolution 
which  he  proposed  in  human  affairs,  Christ  had 
brought  in  a  new  order  of  nobility.  He  had  come 
to  show  that  the  highest  nobility  lay  not  in  the 
length  to  which  one  could  follow  the  stream-  of  his 
blood,  not  in  any  height  of  peculiar  privilege  or 
providential  favor  to  his  ancestry ;  neither  in  the 
military  prowess,  which,  in  earlier  or  later  times, 
enabled  the  armed  and  mounted  warrior  to  ride  or 
trample  down  the  disesteemed  crowd.;  but  in  the 
grandeur  of  private  faith  and  moral  principle,  be 
neath  the  helmet  and  within  the  breast.  This 
excelled  every  thing  beside,  whether  symbolized  in 
sacred  insignia,  or  by  the  plume  and  spear  and  mail 
of  battle. 

When  the  Thessalonians,  then,  were  so  haughty 
and  angry  to  defend  their  own  opinions  that  they 
raised  a  mob  to  expel  Paul  and  Silas,  it  was  in  this 
new  Christian  order  of  nobleness  that  they  proved 
themselves  wanting,  and  inferior  to  the  Bereans,  who 
had  the  candor  patiently  to  listen  and  fairly  to  judge. 


240         CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

The  writer  emphasizes  the  fact,  that  many  of  the 
Jews  and  "  honorable "   Grecian  women  and  men 
heard  and  believed.    If  the  question  were  of  nobility, 
he  boldly  affirms  that  the  noble  thing  was  to  be  a 
Christian,  to  attend  to  the  evidence  of  the  new  reli 
gion,  and  accept  its  just  conclusions.     The  sense 
becomes  more  striking  in  the  true  translation  of  the 
original  word,  which  literally  means  better  born. 
The  Christian  advocate  searches  to  the  root  of  the 
matter,  and  transfers  the  distinction  of  birth  itself 
from  the  branches  of  every  family-tree  in  which  it 
had  lodged.     There  was  a  birth  better  than  that  of 
prince  or  emperor,  levite  or  elder.     It  was  the  new 
birth  or  regeneration  of  the  spirit.     There  was  a 
higher  glory  than  the  accidental  circumstance  that 
put  a  crown  upon  the  head,  or  placed  a  censer  in 
the  hand  and  drew  a  sacred  robe  over  the  person. 
It  was  that  inward  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
which  made  of  men,  kings  and  priests  unto  God. 
It  was  that  spiritual  unfolding  into  the  life  of  good 
ness,  Jesus  talked  of  to  Nicodemus,  which  clad  the 
soul  in  humility  before  God,  and  squared  the  con 
duct  to  the  golden  rule  with  one's  neighbor.    It  was 
indeed  a  birth,  a  new  and  second  birth,  after  that  of 
tribe  or  station,  and  out  of  the  first  passions  and  in 
clinations  of  nature,  into  those  dispositions  of  wor 
ship,  justice,  and  holiness,  which  were  better  signs 
of  high-born  dignity  than  all  the  marks  of  caste  and 
all  the  blazonry  of  heralds.    So  befitting  the  eternal 
truth,  as  it  lay  in  the  mind  of  God,  was  it  that 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.         241 

among  the  disputers  on  points  of  earthly  precedence 
should  come  the  heavenly  messenger,  and  cry, "  Ho ! 
all  ye  Greeks  and  Romans  and  Jews,  and  whoso 
ever  else  may  set  up  and  pride  himself  against 
another  on  the  ground  of  his  name  and  lineage, 
strive  no  longer  about  this  poor  and  antiquated  kind 
of  superiority.  The  very  terms  of  the  conflict  are 
false,  and  its  old  basis  rotten  and  decayed.  Seek 
the  new  style  of  honor  which  will  stand  when  every 
ensign  of  earthly  nobility,  like  banners  in  a  funeral- 
march,  shall  be  reversed  to  the  grave." 

This  new  order  «of  nobility  in  Christ  is  no  sepa 
rate  and  arbitrary  thing  in  his  gospel,  but  involved 
in  that  whole  revelation  of  immortal  justice  which 
he  made,  and  implying  consequences  as  endless  as 
its  origin  is  holy  and  great.  As,  in  the  days  of  chi 
valry,  the  coat-of-arms  was  torn  from  the  back  of 
him  who  had  falsely  assumed  it ;  so  how  many  of 
the  signs  of  worth,  now  counted  genuine,  shall  at 
length  be  no  more  allowed!  Sceptre  and  crown 
shall  be  evened  with  scythe  and  spade,  and  the  cha 
racters  alone  of  those  that  wore  or  wielded  them 
will  be  considered.  There  shall  be  no  question,  at 
the  final  bar,  of  the  first-born  under  the  roof-tree,  or 
of  the  sex  to  be  lifted  into  regal  power,  or  of  the 
particular  thread  by  which  one  may  as  a  point  of 
pride  tenaciously  hold  in  the  complicated  tracery 
of  human  descent;  but  only  of  the  birth  and  growth 
of  purity,  worship,  and  benevolence  in  any  human 
breast. 

21 


242        CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

This  was  surely  a  new  order  of  nobility,  of  an 
altered  stamp,  and  with  other  than  the  ancient 
qualities.  The  characteristic  of  the  noble  or  lord, 
however  in  different  lands  or  ages  he  might  be 
denominated,  presented  him  as  overweening  and 
haughty,  careful  of  his  worldly  honor  and  reputa 
tion  among  men,  quick  in  quarrel,  terribly  to  resent 
and  avenge  all  insult  and  injury,  to  humiliate  his 
adversary,  to  be  implacable  save  at  the  price  of 
the  most  abject  apologies,  and  often  appeased  only 
with  blood.  Of  these  traits  the  ancient  shields  bore 
the  emblems — which  through  rust  the  antiquary  has 
spelled  out  —  in  figures  of  fierce  animals  pictured, 
the  lion  and  leopard,  in  the  engraving  of  clenched 
and  threatening  hands,  and  the  inscription  of  every 
variety  of  warning  and  vindictive  mottoes.  How 
diverse  the  tokens  and  records  of  the  Christian 
nobility  in  the  consecrated  shapes  of  the  lamb  and 
the  dove,  in  the  open  palm  of  charity,  in  the  bud 
ding  branch  of  concord,  or  the  beaming  aspect  of 
good-will,  with  no  hiding  mask  or  menacing  visor ; 
the  commands  of  God  on  the  tables  of  the  heart, 
instead  of  the  devices  of  wrath  and  cunning  in 
armorial  bearings ;  no  sword  but  the  spirit,  no  shield 
but  faith,  no  helmet  but  salvation,  no  breastplate 
but  righteousness,  or  girdle  but  truth,  or  sandals 
but  peace !  Or  if,  in  this  imperfect  and  evil  world, 
the  old  weapons  must  ever  again,  on  inevitable 
occasion,  in  then*  bloody  work  be  lifted,  it  will  be 
done  by  the  new  and  Christian  nobility  only  in  that 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.         243 

extremity  of  need  for  which  no  calculation  is  equal, 
but  for  which  the  instinct  of  goodness  and  equity, 
by  the  great  Father  inspired  in  the  human  soul, 
will  provide.  As,  in  the  severer  turns  of  God's 
own  administration,  there  is  what  is  called  his 
strange  work ;  so,  if  the  children  of  God  and  the 
followers  of  Christ  can  ever  be  truly  moved  to  deeds 
of  chastisement  and  resistance,  these  will  be  theii 
strangest  and  most  reluctant  dealing ;  no  merely 
personal  quarrel,  but  maintained  with  solemn  ap 
peal  to  the  Most  High,  performed  in  the  way  of 
sacrifice,  as  an  offering,  through  what  is  right  in 
human  statutes,  to  the  holiness  of  God's  law  and 
providence  in  the  world,  —  laid  on  the  bloody  altar 
which  patriotism,  humanity,  and  religion,  driven 
by  sad  necessity,  yet  with  united  hands,  must  some 
times  mournfully  build,  —  and  returned  from  with 
eager  speed,  to  the  milder  attributes  and  actions, 
which,  as  their  Master's  familiar  clothing,  it  suits 
them  daily  to  wear. 

Indeed  a  new  order  of  nobility,  on  whose  un 
limited  gradations  the  humblest  may  ascend ! 
Would  that  the  old  order  had  even  yet  given 
place  !  But  the  humility,  meekness,  long-suffering, 
and  forgiveness  of  Christ  and  his  disciples,  so  far 
from  being  generally  practised,  are  not  universally 
recognized  as  the  essentials  of  nobleness.  Many 
seem  to  estimate  them  rather  as  base,  and  cling 
to  the  heathen  irritableness  and  retaliation,  to  the 
barbarian  insolence  and  scorn,  as  what  may  become 


244         CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

a  man.  They  may  signify  these  things  no  longer 
in  the  once  constantly  worn  instruments  of  offence  ; 
yet  faces  flushed  with  passion,  and  tongues  sharp 
with  envy,  malice,  and  hate,  are  a  surer  token  than 
the  sheathed  or  shining  dagger.  But  for  grandeur 
and  courage,  as  well  as  sweetness  and  tenderness, 
the  Christian  spirit  of  self-denial  and  humanity 
soars  above  that  of  personal  consequence  and  vain 
glory.  It  requires  a  stouter  heart  to  disclaim  the 
low  standards  of  society,  and  be  brave  against 
the  dread  laugh  of  one's  companions,  than  to  stoop 
like  the  falcon  on  an  enemy,  or  contend  loudly 
with  bitter  words.  Our  religion  has  told  us  of 
many  a  harder,  and  peradventure  grander,  thing 
than  to  face  the  cannon's  mouth.  Beyond  the  de 
cree  of  knighthood  in  any  aristocracy,  it  stamps 
for  a  nobleman  him  who,  lord  of  lands  or  of  him 
self  only,  is  truth's  servant  and  virtue's  defender; 
champion  of  no  system  of  feudal  oppression  or  of 
modern  slavery,  but  a  peer  with  any  in  purity  and 
equity. 

Our  religion,  then,  has  come  to  ennoble  us.  It 
asks  and  aims  only  to  do  us  honor.  We  have  but 
to  rise  up  to,  and  accept,  the  supreme  dignities  it 
bestows.  But  oftentimes  a  sentiment  quite  oppo 
site  to  that  of  honor  is  connected  with  this  religion 
in  men's  minds.  The  young  and  strong  sometimes 
hold  back  from  the  Christian  nurture  and  profession 
in  a  sort  of  shame.  But  such  shame  is  itself  dis 
grace,  greater  than  the  refusal,  or,  by  misconduct, 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.        245 

loss  of  any  grade  in  the  old  nobility ;  as  the  copy 
of  a  moral  excellence,  like  that  of  Christ,  beyond  a 
parallel  outshines  all  the  crests  and  quarterings  of 
chivalry.  Precarious,  indeed,  is  the  nobility  that 
rests  on  external  conditions  and  supports.  The 
world  has  seen  a  monarch's  throne  burnt  in  the 
square  of  his  own  capital  city,  and  a  pope's  tiara 
fugitive  from  the  centre  of  his  own  temporal  and 
spiritual  domain ;  and  even  now  the  mitres  of 
England  and  Rome  roughly  dashed  together,  while 
civil  ability  and  moral  worth,  with  whatever  checks 
and  pauses,  steadily  prevail  against  the  weight  of 
all  hereditary  splendor.  Not  that  it  is  the  purpose 
of  Providence,  now  or  ever,  in  earth  or  heaven,  to 
reduce  the  distinctions  of  men  to  that  barren  level, 
after  which  base  envy  and  jealous  ambition,  with 
their  wretched  craving,  hanker.  But  the  purpose  is 
to  rectify  and  clear  up  those  distinctions,  according 
to  the  lines  of  a  true  scale  of  excellence.  The  pur 
pose,  no  doubt,  is  to  raise  merit  more  and  more 
into  power,  if  not  into  conventional  seats  of  power, 
for  the  blessing  of  mankind.  The  purpose  is  to 
make  the  righteous  shine  as  the  stars,  differing  from 
one  another  in  glory,  yet  all  together  shedding 
the  beneficent  influence  from  which  rises  their  re 
nown. 

Make  haste,  then,  ye  that  loiter  amid  the  bland 
ishments  of  ease  and  pleasure !    The  lustre  of  nobi 
lity  is  flying  away  from  idleness  and  pomp,  to  light 
on  the  toils  of  the  disinterested  and  humane.     Ye 
21* 


246         CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

that  tread  the  ways  of  wrong  and  violence,  stop  in 
your  downward  career!  For  honor  is  leaving  the 
trophies  of  conquest,  and  gleams  rarely  on  the  heaps 
of  the  slain,  but  is  swiftly  glancing  off  to  gild  the 
monuments  of  philanthropy.  It  is  resting  less  broad 
and  pure  upon  the  military  aspirant,  and  inclining, 
with  a  holier  effulgence,  to  the  clean-handed  hero 
that  fights  the  battles  of  the  injured  and  oppressed, 
and  to  the  heroine  that  builds  up  over  the  land  asy 
lums  for  the  poor  and  insane.  Ye  selfish  ones ! 
under  whatever  disguise  of  decorous  and  polished 
citizens  you  may  proceed,  turn  your  feet  from  the 
paths  of  personal  aggrandizement  and  mere  accu 
mulation.  For  fast  is  coming  the  day  when  we 
shall  be  obliged  to  pick  out  the  true  nobility  from 
their  fellows  of  inferior  note,  not  by  aught  in  their 
clothing  or  fortune  or  circle,  but  by  divisions  of  vir 
tue  brighter  than  were  ever  drawn  in  the  heraldic 
steel  and  gold !  They  will  present  their  armor  of 
proof  and  their  exalted  bearing,  not  in  the  lists  of 
some  appointed  tournament,  but  in  demonstrations 
of  magnanimity  on  the  common  occasions  of  life. 

In  a  foreign  court,  one  plainly-dressed  ambassa 
dor,  as  he  moved  about  among  persons  glittering 
with  stars  and  crosses  and  various  badges  of  honor, 
was  remarked  upon  as  being,  in  his  simplicity, 
greatly  distinguished.  As  this  new  order  of  Chris 
tian  nobility  is  more  widely  instituted,  no  rich  attire 
or  costly  appointments  will  stand  for  fame.  No 
coat-of-arms,  representing,  it  may  be,  in  its  forms 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.         247 

and  colors,  an  ancient  valor  and  integrity,  —  but 
only  frowning,  with  a  cold  and  silent  irony  of  ridi 
cule,  upon  him  that  boasts  or  sports  it  now,  —  will 
confer  any  claim  to  respect.  The  star  will  have  to 
be,  not  gilt  or  painted,  but  wrought  laboriously  and 
forged  with  exalted  achievement.  The  cross  will 
be  no  ornament  of  fashion  or  ecclesiastic  pretence, 
but  a  task  done  faithfully,  or  a  trial  borne  meekly. 
The  lines  of  genealogy  will  be  in  no  old  parchment 
or  register,  but  in  the  countenance,  —  emulous  of 
all  ancestral  loftiness,  —  that  beams  with  benignity, 
and  is  furrowed  with  generous  cares.  A  man's 
nobleness  will  be  judged  from  a  joy  in  uprightness 
and  devotion,  greater  than  in  all  that  may  please 
or  excite  him  from  abroad.  His  introduction  will 
be  in  the  sweetness  of  his  manners.  His  pedigree 
will  appear  in  the  training  of  his  children;  and, 
could  the  seal  be  cut  that  should  show  him  truly, 
the  house  of  God,  abodes  of  want  and  chambers  of 
distress,  as  well  as  scenes  of  brightness  and  pros 
perity,  would  have  the  print  of  his  steps. 

But  why  predict,  for  a  motive,  these  approaching 
changes  of  an  amended  social  scale,  when  to  every 
single  spirit  solemnly  sounds  a  more  sure  and  .far- 
reaching  prophecy  from  the  mouth  of  Christ,  aver 
ring  that  he  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  his  glory,  and 
gather  to  him  all  nations,  not  to  abolish  every  dif 
ference  among  men,  and  make  one,  at  last,  indis 
criminately  equal  to  another;  but  rather  to  assert 
and  carry  out  the  real  distinction  of  ignominy  and 


248        CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

celestial  fame,  in  the  sight  of  angels  and  God,  be 
tween  those  who  do  and  those  who  do  not  the 
divine  will,  —  between  the  self-seeking,  slothful,  and 
cruel,  and  those  who  minister  to  the  hungry  and 
thirsty,  to  the  stranger  and  naked,  to  the  sick 
and  in  prison  ;  accounting  such  service  to  the  least 
as  done  unto  him,  its  neglect  the  last  discredit,  its 
fulfilment  endless  praise. 

Do  we  not  hear  a  trump,  more  clear  and  stirring 
than  ever,  with  brazen  clang,  summoned  the  ancient 
soldiery  to  conflict,  or,  with  a  silver  note,  proclaimed 
the  Hebrew  jubilee,  calling  us  to  no  carnal  warfare 
or  congregation  for  festivity,  but  sounding  from  the 
world  of  spirits  in  the  ear  of  every  secret  soul,  invit 
ing  it  to  enlist  among  apostles'  peers  and  Christ's 
nobles,  to  form  the  living  body  of  his  army,  which, 
in  the  service  of  mankind,  marches  on  to  overcome 
evil  with  good.  To  the  listening  and  obedient  heart 
it  is  a  strain  of  cheering  though  arousing  melody ; 
but,  even  from  the  lips  of  Christ,  it  changes  to  the 
tone  of  threatening  and  cloudy  alarm  for  all  who 
refuse  this  following  of  righteousness  to  victories  of 
love.  Let  it  be  our  privilege,  and  the  only  elevation 
we  seek,  to  fall  into  the  ranks  of  this  noble  host,  led 
by  martyrs  and  confessors,  with  the  great  Witness, 
worthy  Sufferer,  and  true  Conqueror,  at  their  head. 
Thus  may  we  secure  that  appreciation  which  shall 
continue. 

Whatever  relative  estimates  of  men  and  of  quali 
ties  of  character  may  now  prevail  and  be  accepted, 


CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY.         249 

in  how  strong  contrast  must  the  nobility  of  heaven 
be  with  much  of  the  so-called  or  miscalled  nobility 
on  earth  ?  That  nobility  can  have  in  its  composi 
tion  no  proud  bearing ;  nor  can  it  own  for  its  signal 
any  trophy  of  brutal  valor  or  cruel  conquest,  or  of 
that  victory  by  mere  might,  which  is  here  sanctified 
by  success,  and  passes  for  glory  in  the  world.  The 
stream  of  honor  there  can  flow  from  no  muddy 
source,  nor  become  pure  of  original  baseness  by  any 
devious  length  of  its  current.  The  divine  insignia 
will  be  not  of  physical  or  passionate,  but  of  moral 
and  spiritual  power.  In  the  last  court  of  honor,  the 
highest  awards  will  be  for  actions  above  that  infe 
rior  fancy  of  our  art,  which  establishes  right  by 
setting  the  foot  of  an  archangel  on  the  neck  of  a 
demon,  or  makes  a  seraph's  sword  to  wave  gleam 
ing  over  a  prostrate  adversary.  More  conspicuous 
will  be  the  tokens  of  that  virtuous  courage,  which 
repels  evil  without  a  weapon ;  or,  like  Abdiel,  turns 
with  the  rebuke  of  truth  from  the  hosts  of  the  un 
godly.  On  the  gala-days  of  earthly  rejoicing,  the 
old,  smoky,  torn,  and  crimsoned  banners  of  war 
have  sometimes  been  brought  out  for  lofty  exhibi 
tion  amid  assembled  thousands.  But  other  em 
blems  will  there  be  displayed,  representing  deeds 
of  charity,  achievements  of  patience,  monuments  of 
long-suffering;  memorials,  according  to  Christ's  own 
test  of  nobleness,  of  life  saved,  and  not  destroyed. 
In  the  now  incomprehensible  change  of  body  and 
place,  of  our  whole  organization  and  condition, 


250         CHRIST'S  NEW  ORDER  OF  NOBILITY. 

which  shall  be  occasioned  by  death,  the  very  possi 
bility  of  many  occupations,  now  counted  honorable, 
truly  so  when  honorably  discharged,  must  pass 
away.  That  phrase  in  the  Revelation,  "  there  shall 
be  no  more  sea,"  seems  symbolic  of  such  immense 
external  alteration.  The  famous  commerce  of  this 
globe,  the  world- wide  operations  of  sale  and  barter, 
the  use  of  riches,  the  sway  of  fashion,  the  imposing 
splendor  of  civil  or  military  costume,  the  present 
material  objects  of  human  desire,  with  their  pursuit 
through  the  windings  of  art  or  by  the  shock  of  arms, 
will,  through  the  entire  world  of  spirits,  cease.  They 
only,  in  this  vast  revolution,  will  escape  without  loss, 
who  through  each  vocation  have  pursued  worthy 
ends.  They  only  will  be  the  noble,  who  shall  have 
done  the  deeds  which  Jesus  enumerated;  or  can 
lead  in  their  hands,  redeemed  by  their  care,  the 
humblest  creature,  the  poorest  unfortunate  wan 
derer.  Degrees  of  nobility  will  there  be  even  in 
heaven.  But  the  thrones  there  will  be  thrones  not 
of  regal  birth,  but  of  real  excellence.  Dominions 
and  principalities  and  powers  will  mark  the  steps 
on  the  celestial  ladder,  that  worship  and  sanctity 
and  love  ascend ;  and  in  many  things,  with  many 
souls,  it  will  be  indeed  seen,  that  by  merely  crossing 
the  flood,  for  a  new  standard  of  judgment,  the  first 
has  become  last,  and  the  last  first.  May  God  help 
us  to  abide  that  revisal,  and  new,  eternal  reckoning 
of  nobility  or  shame ! 


251 


DISCOURSE   XVIII. 


THE    FORM   OF  THE   SUPERNATURAL   IN  THE 
CHRISTIAN   MIRACLES. 

Acts  ii.  22.  —  JESUS    OF    NAZAEETH,  A  MAN   APPROVED   OF   GOD 

AMONG   YOU   BY  MIEACLES. 

THERE  is  a  distinction,  not  always  regarded,  be 
tween  the  supernatural  and  the  miraculous.  The 
former  term  expresses  a  kind  of  quality  or  action, 
of  which  the  latter  signifies  a  single  variety.  That 
is  supernatural  which  is  above  the  laws  of  nature, 
as  observation  can  trace  and  science  arrange  them : 
accordingly,  man  himself  is  in  part  a  supernatural 
being.  All  the  higher  action  of  his  mind,  his  ima 
ginative  creation,  the  freedom  of  his  will,  and  the 
appeal  of  his  prayer,  are,  in  the  sense  of  exceeding 
any  definable  rules,  supernatural ;  while  equally  so 
is  God's  answer  to  prayer,  his  forgiveness  of  sin, 
and  the  influence  on  the  soul  of  his  Holy  Spirit. 
As  mechanical  power  is  superseded  by  what  we 
call  chemical,  and  chemical  by  vital,  so  is  vital  by 
spiritual  or  supernatural;  the  ascending  series  of 
forces  carrying  us  to  that  whose  manifestations  we 
cannot  regulate,  put  into  any  determinate  process, 


252  THE    FORM    OF    THE    SUPERNATURAL 

or  certainly  embrace  in  any  nomenclature.  It 
is  not,  however,  the  general  subject  which  I  pro 
pose  now  to  discuss,  but  only  to  remark  on  a 
particular  branch  of  it,  or  the  form  of  the  super 
natural  in  the  Christian  miracles.  Even  on  the 
theme  thus  limited,  but  still  very  large,  I  can  now 
make  only  two  or  three  suggestions  as  to  the  im 
portant  offices  which  these  miracles  fulfil. 

First,  they  do  something  to  satisfy  what  may  be 
called  our  natural  longing  for  the  supernatural. 
This,  with  some  strange  exceptions  of  peculiarly 
constituted,  morally  perverted,  or  logically  sophisti 
cated  minds,  all  have  felt.  It  possesses  early  the 
hearts  of  children,  in  their  eagerness  for  wonderful 
stories.  It  appears  in  almost  every  form  of  reli 
gious  belief  and  worship.  It  is  manifest  in  the 
well-nigh  universal  impatience  of  the  human  soul 
to  get  beyond  the  region  of  fixed  order  and  mono 
tonous  routine.  Fair  and  beautiful  as  are  the 
uniform  shape  and  regular  ongoings  of  the  world, 
the  heart  is  not  content,  till,  in  some  way,  it  escapes 
from  the  dominion  of  its  established  statutes  into 
the  region  of  original  divine  activity,  and  imme 
diate  intercourse  with  the  highest,  ungovernable, 
and  all-decreeing  One.  Our  very  frame  is  thus 
built  on  wonder,  and  presumes  upon  some  super 
natural  disclosure.  The  very  make  of  man's  con 
stitution  is  a  signal  for  the  expectation  of  it,  and 
an  argument,  not  in  any  case,  but  in  some  case,  for 
its  reality. 


IX    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  253 

Yet,  because  superstition  has  sometimes  fancied 
miracle,  or  imposture  feigned  it,  there  are  those 
who,  in  the  name  of  philosophy,  would  scout  the 
very  idea  of  any  such  thing,  and  class  the  New 
Testament  narratives,  and  impregnable  proofs  of  it, 
as  no  better  than  priestly  frauds  and  old  wives' 
fables.  Philosophy !  —  pretending  to  chain  the  Al 
mighty  to  his  works,  forbidding  the  Creator  to 
interpose  among  his  creatures,  branding  a  funda 
mental  tendency  of  man's  nature  as  futile,  and 
fixing  the  stigma  of  supercilious  scorn  on  facts 
sustained  by  all  the  demonstrations  that  make  his 
tory  possible,  —  facts,  moreover,  whose  very  intent, 
while  impressing  the  Omnipotent  Hand  on  the 
human  heart,  is  to  break  the  otherwise  boundless 
reign  of  superstition,  and  to  save  the  human  mind 
from  those  fictions  and  absurdities  about  the  super 
natural,  into  which  it  would  otherwise  hopelessly 
run. 

For  all  experience  proves,  that  something,  solid 
or  shadowy,  in  the  shape  of  the  supernatural,  hu 
man  nature  must  and  will  have.  It  craves  this, 
and,  without  it,  famishes.  To  this  native  appetite, 
the  miracles  of  Christianity  furnish  the  true  and 
wholesome  food.  These  miracles,  being  not  merely 
strange  signs  and  astounding  portents,  but  as  full 
of  reason  and  goodness  as  they  are  of  power,  by 
their  pure  and  lofty  character  nourish  and  edify  the 
soul.  They  who  are  laboring  to  cut  off  these 
mighty  deeds,  and  to  rob  the  soul  of  the  nutriment 
22 


254      THE  FORM  OF  THE  SUPERNATURAL 

they  supply,  would,  by  their  success,  only  plunge  it 
back  into  all  the  windy  imaginations  and  poison 
ous  falsehoods,  after  which,  through  each  system  of 
delusion,  credulity  ever  hankered,  and  from  which 
it  is  the  Saviour's  glory,  by  his  bread  of  life,  to 
redeem. 

From  what  a  bottomless  gulf  the  hand  of  Christ 
hath  thus  plucked  us  ;  over  what  an  abyss  of  end 
less  error,  and  devious  abandonment  to  all  vagary 
and  deceit,  we  are,  by  the  verities  of  his  religion, 
safely  suspended,  is  plain  from  the  exposures  of 
our  own  days,  as  well  as  the  wanderings  of  past 
ages.  The  present  time,  of  a  somewhat  rife  skep 
ticism  respecting  the  Christian  miracles,  not  alone 
among  the  ignorant,  but  with  some  men  of  intel 
lectual  claims,  is  singularly  enough  a  time  also  for 
the  setting  up  of  every  vulgar  and  trivial  pretence 
of  miraculous  demonstrations.  Some,  unable  to 
accept  Christianity  on  account  of  its  prodigies, 
seem  to  have  opened  their  breast  to  the  fullest  ad 
mission  of  the  ephemeral  stories  of  preternatural 
power,  and,  by  a  backward  way,  to  be  coming 
round,  through  the  amazement  of  modern  discove 
ries,  to  an  acceptance  of  the  very  religion  which 
they  had  despised.  It  is  curious,  as  a  striking 
indication  of  the  original  and  unalterable  fashion 
of  the  human  heart,  to  see  the  Babel  tower  of  wis 
dom,  so  laboriously  reared  to  heaven  against  God's 
word,  shaking  and  tumbling,  as  a  feather,  before 
the  breath  of  this  marvellous  rumor. 


IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  255 

It  is  not  time,  and  here  is  not  place,  to  pass 
judgment  on  the  reported  facts,  doubtless  deserving 
investigation,  and  perhaps  only  involving  some 
heretofore  unknown  law,  from  which  this  new 
supernatural  faith  has  sprung.  It  may  only,  in 
this  connection,  occur  to  us  to  note  their  vast  infe 
riority,  in  all  dignity  and  worth,  to  the  miracles 
which  we  receive  with  our  religion.  In  what  port 
of  grandeur  the  deeds  of  Jesus  Christ  stand  apart 
from  the  insignificance  or  triviality,  from  the  ma 
lice  or  the  trickery,  of  these  fresh  disclosures ! 
Indeed,  these  latter,  whether  offered  in  the  way  of 
an  amusement,  with  noises  and  motions  at  a 
neighboring  door,  or,  under  the  imposing  figure  of 
a  whole  community,  rising  out  of  like  assumptions, 
in  a  far-off  territory  of  Utah,  appear  but  as  a  tin 
sel  surface  and  hollow  foil  to  the  solid  glory  and 
eternal  splendor  of  those  works  of  Jesus  which 
have  brought  God  and  heaven  into  contact  with 
the  human  soul.  The  comparison  is  nothing  but 
contrast.  Until  the  recent  wonders  shall  fetch  us 
some  revelation  of  truth  or  moral  power  or  spiri 
tual  excellence,  or  even  earthly  convenience  and 
comfort ;  until  science  or  poetry,  virtue  or  earthly 
utility,  are  advanced  by  them ;  until  the  angelic 
visitations,  which  they  would  imply,  become  as 
precious  as  mortal  and  human  influence,  now  at 
hand  and  everywhere  within  our  reach  ;  or  some  of 
the  very  personages  called  up  act  at  least  accord 
ing  to  their  former  wisdom  in  the  flesh,  —  we  may 


256      THE  FORM  OF  THE  SUPERNATURAL 

well,  with  pre-occupied  attention,  continue  to  feed 
our  aspirations  and  rejoice  our  hopes  with  what  is 
at  once  so  much  better  and  more  available  to  our 
belief,  in  the  sublime  and  gracious  doings  of  him 
who  was  in  all  ways  approved  by  God  for  the  Re 
deemer  of  the  world. 

But,  beside  this  healthful  ministration  to  man's 
innate  want  of  the  supernatural,  the  Christian  mira 
cles  perform  another  office  of  guarding  the  doctrine 
and  morality  of  the  gospel.  Much  scorn  has  been 
expressed  at  the  idea  of  proving  truth  by  any  dis 
plays  of  power.  Spiritual  things,  it  is  said,  must- 
be  seen  in  their  own  light,  and  cannot  be  cleared 
up  by  material  phenomena.  The  Christian  advo 
cate,  however,  does  not  suppose  it  is  the  design  of 
the  miracles  to  show  the  intrinsic  credibleness  or 
lay  bare  the  ultimate  basis  of  any  intellectual  pro 
positions,  but  to  seal  and  certify  their  origin.  They 
do  not  so  much  establish  the  truth  as  defend  it; 
and,  like  sentinels  posted  at  a  treasure-house,  pro 
tect  all  the  teachings  and  precepts  with  which  they 
are  connected.  They  repel  the  attacks  of  human 
speculation,  coming  without  heavenly  warrant ;  like 
vehicles  of  celestial  make  and  strength,  they  carry 
all  that  the  divine  Instructor  said  along  with  them 
through  the  course  of  ages,  suffering  nothing  to  be 
lost  from  their  strong  and  holy  girdle ;  and,  while 
with  their  sacred  charge  they  marvellously  move 
over  the  earth  and  down  the  track  of  time,  they 
seem,  as  from  a  spirit's  tongue,  ever  echoing  forth 


IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  257 

the  declaration, —  He  that  affirmed  these  principles, 
and  enjoined  these  commands,  had  the  witness  of 
the  Most  High  with  him ;  the  name  of  God  is 
written  on  the  instrument  by  which  he  conveys  this 
wealth  of  knowledge ;  returning  health  and  sense 
and  reason  are  the  strong  and  blessed  tokens  of  his 
agency ;  and  the  image  of  a  broken  sepulchre  is 
stamped  in  the  seal  of  his  signature. 

We  may,  in  our  perversity,  forsake  the  spiritual 
truth  even  as  thus  inclosed  and  proclaimed.  We 
may  choose  to  go  in  the  ways  of  error.  We  may 
immerse  ourselves  in  matter  and  material  science, 
till  God  and  heaven  disappear ;  and  nothing  is  left 
but  the  ground,  with  plants  and  animals,  and  man 
as  the  great  animal,  upon  it.  Nevertheless,  from  the 
fortifications  constructed  by  an  Omnipotent  Hand, 
—  wherein  they  are  for  ever  safely  entrenched,  — 
shall  be  heard,  in  voucher  and  protest,  these  same 
grand  monitions,  of  a  personal  Father,  a  present 
obligation,  and  a  future  account.  They  cannot,  by 
terrestrial  might,  be  torn  from  their  strong  cover : 
they  cannot  be  dissipated  by  neglect,  nor  feloniously 
stolen  away.  Miraculous  lines,  stronger  than  squad 
rons  of  warlike  array  or  than  twelve  legions  of  an 
gels,  are  a  guard  around  them.  System  after  system 
of  infidelity  and  corruption  has  risen  and  beat  upon 
this  environment  of  rock ;  but  the  celestial  fortress, 
stronger  than  any  rampart  against  the  flood,  with 
stands  the  deluge  of  worldly  thought  and  passion ; 
and  a  voice  from  it,  as  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God, 
22* 


258      THE  FORM  OF  THE  SUPERNATURAL 

still  rises  above  the  human  tempest  to  declare  to 
all  the  same  everlasting  principles  :  —  Your  Maker 
observes  you,  takes  cognizance  of  your  conduct, 
requires  your  obedience,  stretches  out  paternal  arms 
that  the  prodigal  may  come  back  to  him,  and  re 
serves  judgment  for  the  impenitent. 

Thus  framed  in  adamant,  as  it  were  cemented 
with  the  stones  of  which  the  New  Jerusalem  is 
made,  for  their  bulwark,  these  principles,  in  solemn 
adjuration  and  unceasing  repetition,  are  uttered  in 
our  ears.  Therefore  is  the  volume  of  our  faith  one 
book,  —  its  leaves  not  rent,  its  parts  not  separated 
and  scattered  upon  the  winds,  —  because  of  this 
unshaken  and  impenetrable  defence.  It  is  by  some 
imagined  that  the  truth  and  morality  of  the  gospel 
are  things  of  an  undeniable  quality,  shining  always 
in  their  own  light,  which  nobody  can  dispute,  which 
indeed  have  always  b'een  in  the  world,  are  old  as 
the  creation ;  and  therefore  need  no  such  defence. 
But  the  manifold  schemes  set  up  in  these  days,  not 
among  mere  worldlings,  but,  under  the  name  of 
benevolence  and  the  color  of  social  reform,  obtain 
ing  from  many  so  fond  a  hearing,  appear  in  con 
clusive  refutation  of  such  a  fancy,  show  very  plainly 
that  what  is  intrinsically  certain  and  immovable 
may  by  human  folly  be  gainsaid,  and  by  the  murky 
breath  of  human  disputation  made  to  tremble,  even 
as  the  sun  and  stars  will  quiver  in  a  passing  smoke  ; 
and  thus  signify  how  profoundly  grateful  and  loud 
in  our  thanksgiving  we  should  be,  not  only  for 


IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  259 

Christ's  instructions,  but  for  his  miracles  over  his 
instructions  placed  on  guard.  Our  debt  to  God  is 
not  only  for  his  bestowment  of  the  pearl  of  great 
price,  but  for  his  sure  conservation,  in  a  casket  that 
cannot  be  broken,  of  what  he  has  bestowed. 

Once  more,  these  extraordinary  displays  of  power 
in  the  Christian  miracles,  to  authenticate  and  hold 
for  ever  the  messages  of  the  divine  mind  and  will, 
illustrate  the  enduring  interest  of  God  in  his  human 
children ;  and  the  crowning  miracle  of  all,  in  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus,  is  a  special  assurance  of  our 
personal  immortality.  There  is  a  general  kind  of 
immortality  of  truth  and  goodness,  of  which  men 
sometimes  speak,  with  no  idea  of  an  individual 
survival  of  the  grave.  It  is  an  immortality  in  the 
future  like  that  in  the  past ;  an  immortality  in 
which  the  drop  of  our  existence  —  which  has  been 
for  a  moment  insulated  for  such  achievements  of 
honor  and  promise  —  sinks  back  to  the  sea  from 
which  it  rose ;  and  we  ourselves,  after  we  are  dead, 
subside  to  the  condition  we  were  in  before  we  were 
born,  —  that  unconscious  state  which  David  speaks 
of,  when  God  saw  his  "  unperfect  substance."  Such 
an  immortality,  for  the  human  creature  so  unreal, 
has  not  seldom  been  represented  in  the  specula 
tions  of  those  who  cannot  quite  conceive  that 
spiritual  qualities  should  perish,  or  find  their  house 
in  the  grave ;  and  yet  have  no  distinct  belief,  that 
those  in  whom  these  qualities  have  for  a  passing 
moment  been  incarnated  and  enshrined,  shall  ever 


260  THE    FORM    OF    THE    SUPERNATURAL 

transcend  the  floods  of  time,  and  plant  their  feet  on 
the  shores  of  eternity.  But  the  immortality  which 
Christ,  by  his  resurrection,  brings  to  light,  is  an 
actual  immortality,  which,  in  enjoyment,  memory, 
self-possession,  noble  effort,  and  endless  progress, 
God's  faithful  children  shall  have  in  themselves, 
and  of  which  they  shall  be  for  ever  sensible. 
Coming  back  the  same,  in  character  and  appear 
ance,  that  he  was  before  he  went,  Jesus  proved  he 
was  not  lost  in  the  vagueness  and  void  of  the  spiri 
tual  world ;  but  could  come  and  go,  cross  and 
re-cross  the  stream,  stoop  under  the  arch  of  the 
grave,  and  still  keep  all  that  made  him  himself. 
This  case  of  his  own  he  applies  to  his  followers. 
He  ties  their  individual  fate  to  his  heavenly  for 
tunes.  Those  prints  of  the  nails,  which  he  asked 
Thomas  to  verify,  were  not  only  the  sign  of  his 
imperishable  identity,  but  the  demonstration  of  our 
own.  To  continue  the  same  conscious  being  and 
will,  this  alone  is  immortality. 

I  know  by  some  the  wish  of  an  eternal  continu 
ance  is  characterized  as  overweening  vanity  and  the 
very  acme  of  selfishness.  What  is  the  individual, 
they  say,  this  little  personality  we  are  so  proud  of, 
that  it  should  be  preserved  ?  I  will  not  answer 
with  the  obvious  suggestion,  that  it  is  the  affections 
which,  a  thousand-fold  more  than  any  proud  pre 
tence  or  vain  self-interest,  inspire  the  great  hope  of 
enduring  after  the  dissolution  of  the  body.  But, 
above  this,  nothing  in  the  view  of  intelligence,  or 


IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  261 

to  the  common  feeling  of  humanity,  is  more  dear 
and  holy  than  this  very  principle  of  personality. 
"What  an  illustration  of  this  we  ourselves  have 
had !  We  have  seen,  by  virtue  of  it,  a  single  man, 
destitute  and  uncultivated,  a  stranger,  a  fugitive, 
and  a  slave,  becoming  the  centre  of  universal  inter 
est,  the  most  conspicuous  object  in  a  nation ;  the 
character  and  course  of  statesmen  and  rulers 
judged  of  in  reference  to  him  ;  all  the  elements 
of  morals,  and  truths  of  Christianity,  canvassed  in 
their  bearing  on  him ;  the  grounds  of  law,  and 
basis  of  civilization,  tried  anew  in  the  ascertain 
ment  of  his  rights ;  the  terms  of  mutual  regard, 
and  esteem  of  long-tried  friends,  shaken,  or  put 
sharply  to  the  test,  in  the  tug  of  opinion  respecting 
the  disposition  to  be  made  of  him,  because  he  was 
by  nature  "a  person,  and  not  a  thing;  and,  in  fine, 
fame  blowing  her  trumpet  all  abroad  about  one, 
who,  but  for  the  touching  of  this  question  of  his 
poor  personality,  would  have  lived  the  obscurest  of 
the  unknown,  and,  so  far  as  the  general  regard  is 
concerned,  died  as  a  bubble  breaks  in  the  air.  Or, 
to  show,  by  another  striking  instance,  this  general 
interest  in  the  personal  lot  and  enduring  existence 
of  a  fellow-creature,  let  some  adventurous  naviga 
tor,  with  his  crew,  be  missed  upon  the  deep ;  let 
gloomy  doubt  gather  about  his  condition,  and  over 
his  life ;  and  the  concern  for  him,  instead  of  di 
minishing  by  distance,  and  fading  away  with 
time,  shall  only  wax  and  widen,  till  whole  nations 


262  THE    FORM    OF    THE    SUPERNATURAL 

shall  be  agitated  with  sympathy,  and  moved  to  la 
borious  effort,  and  engaged  in  costly  enterprise  for 
his  discovery.  The  benevolent  soul  of  some  stran 
ger  to  him  shall  pour  out  treasure  like  water  for 
his  possible  relief.  Yea,  though  years  may  have 
passed  away,  and  he  peradventure  be  frozen  into 
the  dreadful  birthplace  of  the  iceberg,  or  wedged 
among  the  glaciers  of  the  land,  or  the  snowy 
tempest  howl  over  his  bones,  with  no  earth  for 
their  burial, —  successive  fleets  shall  be  dispatched 
into  the  shadow  of  the  Pole,  and,  under  the  long 
darkness  of  the  arctic  night,  to  hunt  for  him  surviv 
ing,  or  gather  up  his  cold  remains.  Is  not  all  this 
a  sign  of  the  depth,  and  a  foreshadowing  of  the 
destiny,  of  that  personal  being,  which,  by  Christ's 
resurrection,  is  assured  in  the  hope  of  a  limitless 
individual  existence  ? 

Amid  the  uncertainties  and  continually  hazard 
ous  liabilities  of  an  ever-precarious  and  short-lived 
existence,  the  thought  of  what  may  be  real  in  a 
future  state  ever  haunts  us.  Our  doom  stands  in 
a  winning,  yet,  to  our  conscience,  fearful  glory 
before  us.  Ignorant  how  soon  the  voyage  which 
we  are  on  shall  end,  we  can  scarce  fail,  from  our 
most  busy  entanglement,  to  cast  our  glance  some 
times  onward,  peering  over  the  horizon  of  this 
world.  Well  indeed  is  life,  in  our  common  speech, 
described  as  an  ocean.  All  sudden  perils  and  reme 
diless  disasters,  as  of  the  sea,  are  in  our  path.  At 
any  time,  the  fierce  gusts  may  rise,  and  drive  us  to 


IN    THE    CHRISTIAN    MIRACLES.  263 

some  pitiless  fate.  In  any  hour,  the  lantern  of  our 
own  wisdom  may  be  quenched  in  blinding  spray 
from  the  surges  of  conflicting  human  opinions,  or 
the  vapors  of  doubt  may  obscure  our  course.  On 
the  rocking  billows,  with  the  foundations  of  our 
bark  ever  trembling  beneath  us,  shall  we  not  hail 
the  lamp  of  life  shining  out  of  the  monument  of 
our  Lord's  resurrection,  and  casting  steady  lustre 
from  the  farther  coast  of  his  heavenly  ascension  ? 
As  when  the  waves  are  up,  and  the  rain  descends, 
and  the  winds  blow  and  beat,  the  orders  of  the 
pilot,  who  can  guide  through  the  storm  and  night, 
are  more  precious  and  important  than  all  the 
strength  and  wealth  and  wisdom  of  the  world ;  so 
is  it  with  the  directions  of  him  who  marks  the  way 
to  eternal  life  over  the  great  bewildering  deep  of 
our  present  so  agitated  and  mysterious  being. 
Through  all  the  jeopardies  of  our  mortal  career, 
let  us  obey  and  follow  our  great  Master,  the  cap 
tain  of  our  salvation ;  and,  exulting  even  in  gloom 
and  tribulation,  steer  to  that  haven  of  rescue  and 
firm  ground  of  boundless  advancement,  which  he 
has  revealed. 


264 


DISCOURSE   XIX. 


CHRISTIAN    POSTURE    OF    THE    PROBLEM    OF 
EVIL   IN   LIFE. 

Job  iii.  20.  —  -WHEREFORE  is  LIGHT  GIVEN  TO   HIM  THAT  is  IN 

MISERY,    AND   LIFE   TO   THE   BITTER   IN   SOUL  ? 

THIS  question  of  universal  intellectual  and  moral 
interest,  as  to  the  purpose  of  evil,  —  a  question 
forced  from  Job  by  his  own  unhappy  state,  so 
vividly  portrayed  to  us,  —  is  a  question  which  has 
always  been  raised  by  parallel  ghastly  facts  in  life, 
and  remarkable  records  of  human  biography  ; 
which,  were  one  to  take  a  pencil  in  his  hand  to 
draw  the  pictures,  he  might  sketch  somewhat  thus : 
Here,  under  the  sun,  a  figure  moving  slowly 
through  the  street,  not  from  bodily  weakness,  but 
with  the  heavy  weight  of  a  bruised  spirit.  There, 
chronic  illness  sitting  quietly  in  a  close  chamber, 
gazing  out  at  the  tide  of  happy  activity  in  which 
it  cannot  mingle.  One,  as  she  rises  and  walks, 
holding  her  hand  on  her  heart ;  for  "  the  pitcher  at 
the  fountain  "  begins  to  fail,  and  can  no  more  pour 
out  the  flood  of  energy  to  carry  her  through  the 
rejoicing  career  for  which  youth  seems  made.  An- 


CHRISTIAN    POSTURE,    ETC.  265 

other,  it  may  be  an  ardent  soul,  chained  to  linger 
through  the  debilities  of  paralysis ;  for  "  the  golden 
bowl  is  broken,"  and  he  lies  impotently  conceiving 
the  good  ministries  for  which  the  spirit  is  willing, 
were  not  the  flesh  so  weak. 

Here  is  age,  waxing  low ;  poor  and  dim  in  all 
its  decrepit  senses  and  faculties;  body  and  brain 
coldly  refusing  to  serve  the  mind  and  will ;  for  "  the 
silver  cord  is  loosed,"  and  but  slackly  draws  the 
corporeal  load,  dully  wasting  what  would  gladly 
be  dropped.  Yonder,  childhood,  blossom  prema 
turely  blighted,  with  crippled  limbs  and  sallow 
cheek,  glances  round  the  live-long  day  at  the 
hearth,  the  window,  and  the  chair,  instead  of 
bounding  with  merry  companions,  so  buoyant  and 
jubilant,  in  their  busy  sports.  Behold  one,  a  fine 
nature,  of  singular  talent  and  worth,  on  account  of 
some  outward  circumstance  unappreciated  by  the 
proud  and  showy  world,  scarcely  earning  bread  by 
half-compensated  drudgery,  bearing  the  cross  of 
general  neglect.  See  another,  an  ambitious  con 
stitution  of  boundless  aim  and  burning  desire  after 
excellence,  as  it  rushes  to  its  end,  falling  against 
the  corners  of  the  earth,  recoiling  from  the  limits  of 
fate ;  like  a  wounded  bird  unable  to  soar  through 
the  heavens  for  which  it  was  suited,  and  little  fit 
to  walk  over  the  ground.  Here  is  one  pursued 
by  cruel,  unrelenting  fojes ;  and  there,  another  mis 
understood,  injured,  and  wounded  by  the  nearest 
kindred,  that  should  be  friends.  Some,  with  a 
23 


266  CHRISTIAN    POSTURE    OF    THE 

tough  patience,  maintain  the  march  they  have  long 
felt  to  be  severe,  though  "  exceedingly  glad  when 
they  can  find  the  grave ; "  and  others,  with  coward 
ly  retreat,  wait  not  till  Providence  shall  make 
their  couch  in  the  dust,  but  quickly  end  the  battle 
and  the  strife  by  leaping  into  their  own  tomb.  So 
might  one  fill  the  gallery  of  his  imagination  with 
gloomy  portraits:  as,  on  a  cloudy  day,  the  sun 
turns  into  a  blurred,  feathery,  smoky  spot  in  the 
sky;  so,  mid  such  delineations,  the  light  of  life 
fades  away. 

And  why  is  all  this?  I  would  not  treat  this 
interrogation  of  nature  and  the  heart  of  man  as 
impious  and  deserving  no  reply ;  or  confess  it  inca 
pable  of  being  answered,  with  all  the  dark  threads, 
sore  passages,  sad  interruptions  of  felicity,  and 
wretched  prolongations  of  pain,  which  it  presents. 

Take  the  old  instance  itself  in  the  text,  of  Job, 
with  his  heap  of  calamities,  staggering,  under  the 
threefold  burden  of  poverty,  affliction,  and  disease, 
through  the  world.  Why  wert  thou  so  visited, 
didst  thou  ask,  O  Job?  Why  but  that,  through 
thy  momentary  temptation  to  wonder  and  murmur, 
that  beautiful  patience  and  admirable  piety  of 
thine  might  be  afterwards  developed;  and  that 
thou  mightest  thus  set  up  on  the  earth  a  school 
of  patience  and  trust  in  God,  where  all  the  after- 
generations  of  men  might  study  ?  Wherefore  but 
that  thy  example  of  submission  —  believing,  though 
thou  couldst  not  see ;  and  refusing  to  curse  God, 


PROBLEM    OF    EVIL    IN    LIFE.  267 

though  the  oath  was  put  on  thy  tongue  —  might 
spread  from  these  gates  of  the  East,  through  the 
commencing  procession  of  human  existence,  over 
the  globe  ?  Ah !  couldst  thou  have  beheld  from 
that  land  of  Uz,  where  thy  lot  was  cast,  the  poor 
and  the  old,  the  oppressed  and  the  helpless,  in 
many  climes  and  languages,  solitary  slaves  under 
the  scourge,  and  moaning  prisoners  in  their  cells, 
turning  over  thy  leaves  to  learn  resignation,  and 
confidence  in  the  final  award ;  and  we,  in  these 
last  days  and  these  ends  of  the  earth,  going  back 
to  thy  pages  for  sublimity  and  hope,  —  thou  wouldst 
almost  have  wished  to  strike  the  plaintive  and 
skeptical  question  out  of  the  record. 

Even  so  may  we  answer  this  old  "  why  and 
wherefore"  in  our  own  experience.  It  were  not 
graceful,  in  a  world  full  of  graves,  where  hoary- 
headed  sorrow  comes  down  to  our  door,  through  in 
numerable  human  dwellings,  to  make  much  ado  of 
our  particular  vexation,  and  cry  out  to  our  fellow- 
creatures,  "  Lo !  is  there  any  sorrow  like  my  sor 
row?"  —  even  were  there  no  account  to  be  given  of 
its  purpose.  But,  surveyed  in  the  light  of  actual 
observation,  a  clear  and  blessed  account  is  given 
of  it  indeed.  For  to  what  do  we  owe  all  that 
k  soft,  beautiful,  and  gentle  in  this  rough,  cross 
world,  but  to  just  such  instances  as  we  deplore  ? 
Ah !  unhappy,  I  was  going  to  say,  is  the  house 
which  has  not  felt  such  discipline ;  which  has  not 
had  in  it  stooping  age  or  wailing  infancy,  a  sick-bed 


268  CHRISTIAN    POSTURE    OF    THE 

or  a  coffin.  It  is  in  this  pitiful  and  tender  soil, 
watered  with  tears,  that  our  souls  grow.  Kindly 
affections  take  root  in  the  broken  foundations  of 
earthly  pride  and  prosperity ;  and  holy  aspirations, 
like  mosses  and  flowers  amid  the  crumbling  of  an 
cient  structures,  grow  greenly  through  and  over  the 
rents  of  life's  ruins.  At  the  spectacle  of  calamities, 
meekly  and  bravely  borne,  hearts  melt,  which  might 
otherwise  have  been  hard  as  a  stone. 

I  go  to  see  the  child  with  lame  and  feeble  feet, 
keeping  her  seat  while  the  sun  rises,  describes 
his  slow  circle,  and  goes  down  ;  and,  out  of  her 
pallid  face  and  serene  eyes,  she  smiles  a  smile  of 
fortitude,  till,  in  my  own  debt  for  courage  and  sere 
nity,  I  know  her  situation  is  not  providentially  in 
vain  for  others  or  herself.  For  God  has  two  han 
dles  by  which  he  draws  to  him  the  vessel  of  his 
creature's  spirit.  The  outer  handle  is  pleasure,  but 
the  inner  one  is  pain.  And  he  makes  even  such  a 
little  one,  under  his  handling,  a  missionary  of  his 
gospel,  though  she  be  held  in  the  confinement  of  a 
few  feet's  space,  a  missionary  as  truly  as  he  does 
him  who  sails  over  every  sea,  and  travels  through 
every  land,  with  the  errand  of  glad  tidings,  peace 
on  earth,  and  good-will  to  men.  I  visit  the  para 
lytic  sufferer ;  and,  through  his  lips,  as  I  stand  by 
his  side,  flow  the  old  hymns  and  long-wonted 
prayers,  more  affecting  in  the  word  that  palsy 
makes  difficult  or  renders  indistinct. 

Oh !  wish  not,  even  in  a  thought,  to  sweep  out 


PROBLEM    OF    EVIL    IN    LIFE.  269 

of  the  world   these    broken  remnants   of  mortal 
strength  and  hope,  as  though  they  were  nothing 
but  incumbrances,  and  to  leave  only  the  hale  and 
hearty,  like  the  vigorous  oaks ;  as  though  they  only 
should  be  exempt  from  having  the  axe  laid  at  their 
root,  who  can  accomplish  ostentatious  objects,  and 
finish  your  stirring  and  powerful  affairs.    Those  left 
aside  from  the  hurry  and  noise  of  life,  placed  on  the 
shelf  of  an  infirm  repose,  till  you.  may  be  surprised 
they  are  not  released,  but  withheld  from  the  reward 
in  glory  for  which  they  are  prepared,  and  doomed 
to  drag  out  a  useless  existence,  have  of  all  others 
the  best  and  choicest  messages  of  heaven  to  con 
vey.     I  see  not  how  they  could  be  spared,  how  we 
could  get  along  and  do  without  them.     Their  heart 
is  an  ever-ready  altar  of  sacrifice ;  their  presence,  an 
oratory  of  prayer.     They  can  bless  better  than  did 
the  patriarch,  when  he  scattered  all  temporal  boun 
ties  among  his  sons  for  a  legacy.     Not  to  vindicate 
the  providence  of  God,  which  will  vindicate  itself, 
but  to  point  out  a  most  important  duty  in  our  own 
improvement,  I  take  from  them  my  theme.     Wait 
and  attend  upon  them ;  meditate  on  their  lot,  and 
understand  what  it  has  taught  them ;  and  you  shall 
get  a  benediction  which  your  houses  and  lands,  and 
ships  sailing  from  afar,  cannot  bring.      Yea,  the 
thriftiest  of  your  concerns  shall  not  yield  you  such 
revenue  as   you   can   draw  from  what  may  have 
seemed  the  barren  stillness  of  their  retirement,  and 
from  the  inner  working  of  their  hearts.     If  your 
23* 


270  CHRISTIAN    POSTURE    OP    THE 

object  be  not  gain,  but  morality  and  virtue,  think 
not  your  morality  and  virtue  are  secured  best  and 
only  by  tugging  at  the  cords  of  your  own  resolu 
tions,  and,  with  the  prick  of  your  conscience,  goad 
ing  on  your  own  reluctant  and  laboring  will ;  but 
rather,  by  giving  yourself  up  to  contemplate  these 
grand  operations  of  Providence  chastening  its  chil 
dren,  subtly  cultivating  into  spontaneous  beauty 
the  loveliest  graces,  to  transfer  them,  if  you  will, 
a  slip  or  a  seed  into  your  own  bosom.  For  this 
field  of  woe,  which  unbelief  is  astonished  at,  is  no 
Aceldama  of  blood  or  Golgotha  of  skeletons,  but 
the  garden  of  the  Lord  ! 

In  those  cases,  rarer  and  harder  it  might  seem  of 
solution  than  the  common  ones  of  physical  an 
guish,  where  the  intellectual  scheme  is  baffled,  and 
the  moral  plan  of  life  put  back  in  defeat,  and  a 
tempestuous  and  vehement  spirit,  grasping  at  all 
good,  attains  to  no  smooth  and  sunny  voyage 
across  the  sea  of  b'fe,  but  rather  only  invites  the 
storms  of  this  world  to  close  around  and  over 
whelm  it,  like  a  rod  burned  in  the  lightning  it 
courts,  we  may  still  ask,  What  does  such  a  spirit 
but  loudly  prophesy  of  the  immortality  that  must 
give  it  the  sphere  and  accommodation  it  could  not 
discover  in  the  short  reach  of  these  tossing  waves 
of  time  ? 

For  we  do  not  want  to  fare  so  as  to  be  willing, 
b'ke  an  animal,  to  take  up  for  ever  with  this  world ; 
and  there  are  two  things  that  predict  and  make 


PROBLEM    OF    EVIL    IN    LIFE.  271 

necessary  a  future  life.  One  is  the  sweet,  perfect, 
saintly  soul,  going  in  faith  through  all  suffering 
and  opposition,  and  rising,  above  funereal  sobs  and 
lamentations,  to  clear,  rich  songs  of  thanks  and 
praise ;  blessing  God  for  his  earth,  and  ripe  for  his 
heaven ;  streams  of  mercy  flowing  by  its  side, 
"  eternal  sunshine  settling  on  its  head ; "  —  and  the 
other  is  the  struggling  and  unsuccessful  navigator 
of  this  lower  ocean,  encountering  the  gale,  having 
to  put  back  from  the  course,  or  wrecked  at  last  on 
the  rocks  and  sands  of  misfortune.  Oh !  for  that 
one,  too,  another  bark  must  be  provided  to  sail 
through  other  more  pacific  seas,  with  new  oppor 
tunities  and  fresh  chances  for  virtue  and  happiness 
in  the  unlimited  universe  of  God.  To  the  why 
respecting  its  adversities,  we  answer,  Because  food 
was  wanted  for  the  soul's  undying  hunger  after 
better  fortunes,  —  because  it  was  not  meant  we 
should  be  so  mean  as  to  put  up  with  the  present 
as  satisfying,  but  that  all  this  world  should  appear 
to  the  soul  as  "  a  bed  shorter  than  that  a  man  can 
stretch  himself  upon  it,  and  a  covering  narrower 
than  that  he  can  wrap  himself  in  it."  "  Why  and 
wherefore,"  but  that  we  should  learn  from  the 
Christian  revelation  the  object  of  life,  and  be  driven 
from  vain  reliances  to  pursue  it  betimes,  instead  of 
bewailing  its  neglect  at  the  end  ? 

Job's  question,  Why  the  light  of  human  life  is 
mixed  with  bitterness  and  misery,  is  answered,  then, 
in  the  demonstration  that  we  are  indebted  for  wrhat 


272  CHRISTIAN    POSTURE    OF    THE 

is  most  valuable  in  temper,  character,  and  hope,  not 
alone  to  what  is  sunny  and  sweet,  but  to  the  shadow 
that  hides  our  landscape,  and  the  wormwood  that 
dashes  our  cup.  For  the  present  let  us  not  be 
anxious  to  know  more.  Let  it  suffice  us,  that  by 
such  a  life  the  better  nature  in  us  is  encouraged, 
and  the  death,  too,  that  is  certainly  before  us,  made 
friendly  and  captivating.  We  are  not  merely  re 
conciled  to  die,  but  derive  a  positive  comfort  from 
the  thought  and  expectation ;  comfort  that  we  shall 
be  told  at  last,  we  need  not  go  on  any  longer  in 
this  routine  of  toil,  rowing  perchance  against  the 
tide,  withstanding  the  tempter,  lifting  the  weight  of 
care ;  but  that  the  faithful  pilgrim  may  be  permitted 
to  lay  down  his  pack,  and  hear  a  voice  calling  out 
to  him,  "  Friend !  go  up  higher." 

Why,  do  we  ask,  looking  from  the  troubles  and 
diseases  in  our  dwellings  up  into  the  heavens,  — 
why  are  the  sick,  the  infirm,  the  old,  with  their  shat 
tered  nerves  and  poor  dim  senses,  among  us  ?  The 
answer  is,  that  there  is  explanation  enough  of  any 
thing  when  we  can  see  its  use ;  that  they,  of  all 
others,  are  most  useful  and  necessary  —  nay,  even 
essential  —  to  human  virtue ;  and  that  the  world 
could  not  dispense  with  them,  or  be  at  all  a  tender 
hearted  or  moral  world  without  them.  If  there  is 
to  be  a  conscription  and  parting  with  some  for  the 
common  safety  and  good,  better  surrender  part  of 
the  healthy  and  strong  than  all  these  feeble  and 
withering  forms.  They  add  not  directly  to  the 


PROBLEM    OF    EVIL    IN    LIFE.  273 

material  wealth  and  visible  production  of  the  race. 
But  none  that  till  the  field,  or  hoist  the  sail,  or 
build  the  house  or  ship,  or  sink  the  shaft  of  the 
mine,  do  better  service  than  they  to  their  kind,  in 
their  spiritual  wrestlings :  with  mute  lips,  full  of  me 
mentoes  and  appeals  more  instructive  than  books, 
more  thrilling  than  eloquence;  with  warning  ex 
pression,  showing  us,  as  in  the  rush  of  this  world's 
pleasure  and  vanity  we  need  to  perceive,  our  neigh 
borhood  to  those  narrow  chambers  Job  so  sublimely 
describes ;  and  with  hands,  which  they  can  scarcely 
lift  from  their  pillow  or  their  side,  opening  to  our 
view,  beyond  gates  of  earthly  ease  and  success,  the 
doors  of  eternity. 


274 


DISCOURSE  XX. 


CHRISTIAN    REPRESENTATION    OF    DEATH   AS   A 
SLEEP. 

Luke  viii.  52.  —  SHE  is  NOT  DEAD,  BUT  SLEEPETH. 

PERHAPS  the  most  interesting  of  all  questions  that 
can  be  asked  is,  What  is  death  ?  But,  of  all  ques 
tions,  this  has  most  baffled  the  mind  of  man. 

"  What  is  this  absorbs  me  quite ; 
Steals  my  senses,  shuts  my  sight; 
Drowns  my  spirit,  draws  my  breath1! 
Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  be  death  1 " 

A  human  being  is  bom  into  this  world,  moves  about 
for  a  certain  term  with  growing  animation,  gives 
signs  in  the  body  of  an  intelligent,  spiritual  power 
sparkling  through  the  eye  and  sounding  upon  our 
ear ;  and  then  this  waxing  figure  of  life  strangely 
wanes  away,  and  becomes  silent,  inexpressive,  and 
still.  What  is  it?  What  has  taken  place ?  We 
say,  Death.  But  what  is  death  ? 

Jesus  answers  that  it  is  sleep.  And  though,  even 
in  that  solemn  scene  where  the  ruler's  daughter  lay 
a  corpse,  they  laughed  him  to  scorn,  knowing  that 
she  was  dead ;  he  proved  his  word  that  death  was 


CHRISTIAN    REPRESENTATION    OF    DEATH.        275 

sleep,  to  the  astonishment  of  them  all.  It  was  an 
idea  with  some  of  the  ancients,  that  sleep  and  death 
were  sisters.  The  greatest  poem  of  antiquity  repre 
sents  the  lifeless  form  of  a  warrior  as  borne 

"  By  Sleep  and  Death,  two  twins  of  winged  race, 
Of  matchless  swiftness,  but  of  silent  pace." 

But  Jesus  Christ,  inspired  of  God  to  know  more 
than  sage  or  poet  ever  dreamed,  declares  that  sleep 
and  death  are,  in  different  shape,  the  same  thing : 
and  his  understanding  of  a  matter  which  our  wit 
cannot  fathom,  we  may  well  take  as  authority. 

Death  is  a  sleep.  Then  surely  it  is  a  blessing. 
For  such  sleep  is ;  and  if  death  be  like  that  which 
"  knits  up  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care,  the  death  of 
each  day's  life ; "  which  has  swallowed  up  so  much 
pain  and  misery  and  grief  since  the  world  began, 
and  revived  countless  millions  to  new  energy  and 
joy  and  hope  on  the  face  of  the  world;  —  if  death 
be  actually  but  a  sleep,  —  and  so  it  is,  for  so  Christ 
teaches,  —  then  thank  God  for  it :  it  is  nothing  save 
refreshment  and  a  boon. 

But  let  us  be  careful  not  to  lose  the  truth  of  this 
consoling  resemblance.  Men  have  often  spoken  of 
death  as  a  sleep,  without  holding  to,  but  utterly 
losing,  the  meaning  of  this  identity.  Infidels  and 
atheists  have  described  death  as  an  eternal  sleep, 
absurdly  thus  violating  the  very  metaphor  they 
used ;  it  not  being  the  nature  of  sleep,  that  divine 
benediction  on  our  fatigue  and  distress,  to  be  eter- 


276  CHRISTIAN    REPRESENTATION    OF 

nal.  Sleep  is  not  annihilation:  so  death  is  not 
annihilation.  Sleep  is  a  recreation  of  our  ener 
gies,  a  renewal  of  our  affections,  the  strengthening 
and  sharpening  of  every  ability  for  firmer  service. 
Sleep  is  returning  for  awhile  from  self-possession 
into  the  immediate  hand  of  God,  and  mysterious 
contact  with  his  regenerating  life,  for  a  new  influx, 
from  the  Fountain  of  being,  into  the  very  depths 
of  our  existence,  of  freshness  and  alacrity  and 
force. 

So  death,  then,  Christ's  account  being  true,  is  but 
the  same  vital  reinvigoration.  Men  lose  themselves 
as  entirely  in  profound  and  perfect  sleep  as  they  do 
in  death ;  the  lids  not  trembling,  though  a  light,  in 
a  robber's  hand,  is  passed  before  them,  —  as  though 
it  were  God's  purpose  to  reconcile  us  to  dying  at 
last  by  the  mimic  death  we  die  every  night.  Very 
deep  indeed  the  evening  slumber  seems  to  sink  into 
us.  The  busiest  hands  are  passive  and  helpless, 
the  most  active  will  impotent,  the  mightiest  mind 
weaker  than  infancy,  the  fiercest  passions  burned 
down  and  quenched  into  harmless  embers.  Adam 
is  by  Milton  represented  as  thinking  he  was  going 
to  die  when  first  going  to  sleep.  Yet  all  the  time 
there  is  no  oppression  on  the  springs  of  life,  but  only 
restoring  of  their  elasticity.  Light  and  cheering  on 
the  soul  falls  the  irresistible  stress,  the  incomparably 
mighty  agency,  of  this  amazing  phenomenon.  A 
wonderful  finger  penetrates  into  the  subtlest  com 
plexity  of  our  frame,  passes  over  every  part  of  "this 


DEATH    AS    A    SLEEP.  277 

machine  "  which  "  is  to  "  us,  removes  obstruction, 
repairs  waste,  magnetizes  to  new  effort,  and  touches 
to  finer  issues.  Marvellous  mercy  of  God  in  the 
darkness,  continuing  his  mercy  that  is  in  the  light ! 
But  no  more  marvellous  than,  and  not  diverse  from, 
his  mercy  in  death.  That  rests,  Christ  tells  us, 
equally  light  on  the  immortal  spirit.  That,  too, 
injures  not,  but  only  mends,  and  exalts  to  new 
heights,  its  most  delicate  susceptibility  and  loftiest 
capacity. 

Sleep,  moreover,  is  but  a  short  and  passing  expe 
rience.  It  leaves  us  when  it  has  done  its  essential 
work  of  empowering  and  refitting  us  from  the  strain 
and  weariness  of  the  day.  So  death,  again,  is  a 
very  temporary,  transient  process,  from  which  the 
spirit  emerges  bright  for  new  endeavors  and  displays 
of  excellence.  It  is  a  mistake,  therefore,  to  say, 
as  is  common,  that  our  fathers  are  asleep.  They 
were  asleep  when  they  died.  But  brief  was  their 
sleeping,  as  is  the  quality  of  sleep  to  be.  They  are 
no  longer  asleep  there  in  the  dust,  as  they  are  too 
often  described,  lingering  for  literal  trumpets  and 
the  bursting  hillocks  of  the  churchyard,  but  awake 
from  the  decay  of  time,  alive  out  of  the  ashes  of 
mortality,  not  entangled  with  earth,  not  under  the 
tombstone ;  but  long  ago,  from  that  little  drowsi 
ness  we  call  death,  lifted  in  sight  of  angels  and  in 
praise  of  God. 

When  the  young  die,  long  ere  our  tears  cease 
to  flow  over  them,  long  ere  the  grass  and  flowers. 
24 


278  CHRISTIAN    REPRESENTATION    OF 

have  time  to  adorn  their  graves,  long  ere  our  hearts 
stop  yearning  for  the  tender  forms  so  dearly  pressed 
to  parental  bosoms,  they  are  gone,  —  for  the  slum 
bers  of  childhood  are  proverbially  sweet  and  light, 
—  and  they  wake  quickly  to  the  greeting  of  love, 
which  heaven  can  give  as  well  and  better  than 
earth.  What  picture  more  beautiful  to  charm  the 
eye  than  the  sleep  of  a  child !  How  we  stand  in 
silent  admiration  and  perfect  ecstasy  of  joy  over 
the  cradle,  and  gratefully  bless  God  for  the  image, 
so  clear  and  full,  of  his  beneficence  to  mortals! 
How  we  delight  ourselves  with  the  changes  occa 
sionally  rippling  over  the  calm  and  peaceful  coun 
tenance,  —  some  gentle  parting  of  the  lips,  flush 
of  pleasure,  "  angel's  whisper  " !  Well,  when  the 
sleep  of  death  comes  to  release  from  the  exhaus 
tions  of  weariness  and  the  pangs  of  disease;  and 
tranquillity,  like  the  night's  repose,  settles  upon  all 
the  tossing  and  restless  torture  of  days  or  weeks, 
and  there  is 

"  Again  a  smile  upon  the  face, 
As  though  the  soul  had  gotten  grace  ;  " 

why  should  we  not  also  render  thanks  to  Him 
who,  by  the  same  ministration  of  sleep  in  another 
form,  as  our  Master  tells  us,  has  unwound  the  chain 
of  anguish  with  the  mortal  coil,  to  waken  his  off 
spring  with  blessed  light  and  life  in  a  celestial 
body? 

May  I  say,  that  one  of  my  earliest  childish  recol- 


DEATH    AS    A    SLEEP.  279 

lections  was  the  fear,  not  of  death,  but  of  sleep. 
I  remember  lying  upon  my  bed  resisting,  and,  in 
a  kind  of  horror  of  the  imagination,  struggling 
against  this  then  unwelcome  phantom  of  sleep. 
The:  thought  seemed  to  be  of  resigning  conscious 
ness  and  existence ;  in  fact,  of  dying  in  all  the  sense 
that  can  be  had  of  death.  But  that,  which  appeared 
terrible,  came  not  malignant,  but  benign  and  gra 
cious  to  close  the  eyes,  and  not  extinguish  but 
resuscitate  the  ignorant,  worn-out  creature  for  new 
sport  and  study.  So  the  death,  of  which  we  are 
afraid,  can  lay  no  ban  upon  us.  The  unsubstantial 
ghost  is  nothing  but  in  the  benefaction  it  brings, 
the  new  gloss  it  shall  put  on  our  faculties,  the 
keener  edge  on  our  desires,  the  greater  alertness 
and  pitch  of  a  higher  flight  to  our  undying  aspira 
tions;  as  the  winged  creature,  that  has  slept  on 
the  bough,  more  gladly  scales  and  beats  at  dawn 
through  the  heavens. 

How  the  spirit  wakes  from  the  sleep  of  death ; 
how  it  rids  itself  of  the  garment  of  flesh ;  how 
soon  it  is  extricated  ;  in  what  vehicle  it  rises  to  its 
home  ;  what  quality  of  clothing  it  assumes,  or  new 
mode  of  activity  it  puts  forth,  —  in  other  words,  the 
precise  working  upon  it  of  death,  —  we  know  not. 
But  neither  do  we  know  the  precise  working  upon 
it  of  sleep,  and  nobody  can  tell  us ;  familiar  as  it 
is,  occupying  so  many  of  every  twenty-four  hours, 
yet  a  fathomless  mystery.  But  Christ  says  death  is 
sleep  ;  and  we  may  believe  him,  and,  with  as  trust- 


280  CHRISTIAN    REPRESENTATION    OF 

ful  sereneness,  go  through  the  one  mystery  as  the 
other.  Faithful  in  life,  and  avoiding  the  character 
of  those  who,  as  the  prophet  denounces,  shall  wake 
to  shame,  then,  according  to  the  sacred  verse,  we 
may  "  dread  the  grave  as  little  as  our  bed  ; "  "  after 
life's  fitful  fever,  sleep  well ; "  and,  in  the  better 
alternative  of  the  prophecy,  wake  to  life  ever 
lasting. 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  weakening  of  the 
powers  of  will  and  memory  in  old  age.  It  is  but 
the  coming  on  of  sleep.  The  slackened  step  of  in 
firmity,  the  dozing  of  decrepitude,  yielding  at  last, 
for  a  moment,  to  the  slumber  of  death,  shall  rise, 
swift  and  watchful,  in  the  eternal  morning. 

By  this  sameness  or  parallelism  of  sleep  and 
death,  which  Christ  uses  in  respect  to  the  daughter 
of  Jairus,  and  also  of  the  decease  of  his  friend 
Lazarus,  he  intends,  in  fine,  to  affirm,  in  the  plain 
est  words,  the  superficial  nature  of  death ;  that  it 
cannot  pierce  to  the  soul,  cannot  blast  the  capabi 
lities  of  the  thinking  mind,  of  the  loving  heart,  the 
resolving  will,  and  the  conscientious  and  worship 
ping  spirit ;  that  these  shall  escape  its  blight,  defy 
its  dart,  soar  above  its  dissolution ;  nay,  be  only 
quickened  by  its  shock,  and  enlarged  to  wider  soil 
and  purer  air,  as  their  prison-walls  are  taken 
down. 

What  a  consolation  such  teaching  from  one, 
who,  as  the  heart  of  mankind  more  and  more 
owns,  knew,  with  surety  beyond  any  other,  whereof 


DEATH    AS    A    SLEEP.  281 

he  told !  While  into  the  arms  of  death  have  sunk 
such  a  host  of  those  honorable  and  dear  to  us, 
friends  and  kindred  of  earlier  years ;  of  those  who 
played  with  us  by  the  fireside,  whose  looks  beamed 
and  voices  rang  happily,  the  companions  in  part  of 
our  journey  ;  of  our  guardians  in  the  slippery  ways 
of  youth,  or  of  those  whom  we,  in  our  turn,  have 
tended  and  led  by  the  hand,  hoping  they  would  take, 
and  more  than  make  good,  our  place ;  and  mean 
time,  as  the  frail  members  of  surviving  parents  or 
children,  all  whose  lines  and  features  are  so  fondly 
written  in  the  page  of  our  eye  and  the  book  of  the 
heart,  lie  open  to  manifold  danger,  —  pain  besieg 
ing  them,  fever  and  consumption  lurking  round,  — 
in  this  condition  to  be  able  to  say  that  the  arms  of 
death  are  but  the  arms  of  sleep,  and  to  sing, 

"  Asleep  in  Jesus  !  peaceful  rest, 
Whose  waking  is  supremely  blest  I " 

oh !  it  spreads  comfort  alike  through  the  enclo 
sures  of  the  dead,  and  the  abodes  of  the  living.  It 
lifts  the  pall ;  rends  the  shroud ;  rolls  away  the  great 
stone  ;  renders  soft  the  dying  bed ;  makes  marble 
and  granite,  planted  in  the  ground,  point  up ;  brands 
broken  columns  and  inverted  torches  as  misrepre 
senting  the  dead ;  and  shows  the  heavy  Egyptian 
sepulchre  to  be  out  of  place  in  a  Christian  burial- 
ground. 

Talk  as  we  may  of  an  independent  consciousness, 
in  our  own  individual  breasts,  of  a  future  destiny, 
24* 


282 


DEATH    AS    A    SLEEP. 


amid  the  conflicting  theories  of  death  which  phi 
losophy  has  devised  or  superstition  received,  there 
is  comforting  assurance  in  such  a  voice  as  that  of 
the  Son  of  God,  the  purest  that  ever  broke  the 
waves  of  this  sublunary  atmosphere,  as  it  sounds 
through  all  the  fields  of  the  gathered  dust  of  human 
mortality,  pronouncing  this  but  the  dropped  vest 
ment  of  vanishing  slumbers  ;  for  well  said  that 
barbarian  Briton  chief,  to  whom  Christianity  was 
preached  first  in  our  mother-land,  that  "  the  life  of 
man  is  like  a  bird  fleeing  from  darkness  into  a 
lighted  chamber,  and  then  out  into  the  darkness  at 
the  other  side ;  and,  if  this  religion  can  inform  us 
whence  and  whither,  it  is  worthy  of  our  faith." 

Let  us,  then,  take  into  our  creed,  as  an  article 
from  the  Saviour's  lips,  that  Death  is  a  sleep  !  —  a 
sleep  speedily  over  for  the  disciple  as  it  was  for  the 
Lord.  Death  is  a  sleep ;  and  a  quaint  Christian 
writer  wisely  fancies  that  this  life  is  but  a  sleep, 
compared  with  the  intenser  life  to  come  ;  calling 
these  his  "  drowsy  days,"  and  looking  for  the  time 
when  he  shall 

"  Never 
Sleep  again,  but  wake  for  ever." 

"  Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the 
dead ;  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light."  Let  us 
so  live  and  watch,  that,  when  we  lie  down  to  die, 
it  shall  be  "  as  one  that  wraps  the  drapery  of  his 
couch  about  him." 


283 


DISCOURSE   XXI. 


WHAT   THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS   TO   LIVE   AND 
TO    DIE    FOR. 

Philip,   i.   21.  —  FOE    ME    TO    LIVE   IS   CHRIST,  AND  TO   DIE   IS   GAIN. 

IT  is  a  reflection  often  made  to  enhance  the  bril 
liancy  of  some  one's  earthly  prospects,  or  to  aggra 
vate  grief  in  the  event  of  one's  death,  "  He  had  so 
much  to  live  for."  It  might  both  moderate  the 
boast  and  overbalance  the  sadness  of  this  reflection, 
if  we  would  consider  also  how  much  such  a  one  had 
to  die  for.  Paul  had  much  to  live  for ;  but  he 
thought  also  how  much  he  had  to  die  for.  For  his 
converts,  yet  nurslings  in  the  Christian  faith,  he 
would  live :  to  be  with  his  Master,  he  would  die. 
He  would  live  to  preach  the  gospel ;  but  the  better 
land  glimmered  down  so  clear  and  winning  upon 
him,  he  could  hardly  decide.  All  Christians  and 
believers  in  God  must  have  something  of  the  same 
divided  feeling,  and,  like  the  apostle,  be  in  a  strait 
betwixt  two. 

Life  and  death,  the  two  thoughts  oftenest  in  our 
hearts,  the  two  words  oftenest  on  our  lips ;  life  here 
with  us,  and  death  there  before  us ;  life  in  some, 


284  WHAT    THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS 

and  death  in  others,  dear  to  us,  —  this  twofold  rela 
tion  is  certainly  most  important  to  be  adjusted,  that 
our  feeling  may  be  right  to  the  dead,  and  our 
conduct  right  to  the  surviving. 

True  religion  does  not  disparage  the  present 
existence.  Certainly,  there  is  a  vast  deal  here  to 
live  for.  This  world  is  not  a  great  mistake.  This 
world  is  not  an  ugly  ruin.  This  world  is  not  a  mere 
heap  of  dust  and  ashes.  This  world  is  a  noble  and 
beautiful  world,  though  it  be  a  little  planet  and  far- 
off  satellite  of  the  sun.  And  human  life,  if  it  be  at 
all  in  the  fear  and  love  of  God,  is  no  empty  or 
miserable  thing,  but  an  immense  boon  for  which 
we  can  never  be  enough  grateful.  The  order  and 
plenty  and  riches  around  us ;  these  happy  days  of 
golden  light,  that  bear  us  through  our  coursing 
years ;  the  nights  of  rest  and  safety  in  an  Almighty 
hand;  the  endless  harvests  that  hand  plants  for 
our  hunger;  the  wells  of  water  it  unseals  to  our 
thirst,  and  the  flowers  it  tenderly  sprinkles  over  all 
to  adorn  our  lot,  —  what  should  we  do  between 
whiles  of  our  toil,  nay,  throughout  our  occupation, 
but  sing  an  anthem  and  under-song  of  the  heart  for 
such  gifts  in  our  existence  ? 

But  that  existence  is  better ;  that  land  is  brighter ; 
that  world  more  beautiful ;  nature  arrays  herself 
there  in  finer  charms.  No  blight  comes,  no  pesti 
lence  wastes,  no  gloom  absorbs  half  the  hours,  no 
storm  beats,  or  tornado  hurtles  through  the  air. 
Beauty  and  sublimity  are  there,  where  they  hunger 


TO    LIVE    AND    DIE    FOR.  285 

not,  nor  thirst  any  more  with  bodily  craving;  but 
feel  loftier  appetites,  met  with  perpetual  satisfac 
tions.  The  pen  of  inspiration  itself,  striving  to 
portray  the  wealth  and  gladness  of  that  country, 
seems  to  tremble  and  stagger  on  the  page,  and  can 
only  stop  to  deck  itself  with  all  the  brightest  jewels 
of  the  mine,  with  jasper  and  sapphire  and  emerald, 
as  emblems  of  what  eye  cannot  see,  or  ear  hear,  or 
the  heart  of  man  conceive. 

"We  have  here  how  much  to  live  for  in  our  homes 
of  love  and  happiness !  and  when  one,  the  honored 
head  of  a  household,  or  some  branch  of  filial  com 
fort,  budding  in  parental  eyes,  is  taken  away,  it 
seems  like  an  ugly  rent  and  chasm  in  the  very  sub 
stance  of  being.  The  beloved  one  seems  hurried 
away  from  what  pure  fountains  of  refreshment !  — 
the  cup  he  was  lifting  fiercely  dashed  from  his  lips, 
and  incalculable  waste  made  of  the  means  of  en 
joyment;  as  though,  from  fear  or  some  strange, 
incomprehensible  necessity,  immense  treasure  had 
been  left  behind  in  a  desert,  or  sunk  in  the  sea. 

But  home,  that  thing,  indeed,  of  such  blessed 
meaning,  does  not  belong  all  to  earth.  It  does  not 
exist  in  its  best  estate  on  earth.  God's  children, 
Christ's  followers,  do  not  leave  it  for  ever  behind 
when  they  go  from  earth.  It  only  begins  here  to  be 
perfected  there ;  to  have  more  and  holier  affection  in 
it ;  more  music  sounding  through  its  loftier  rooms, 
in  a  clearer  atmosphere,  as  its  sundered  members, 
one  after  another,  re-assemble,  with  no  shadows  of 


286  WHAT    THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS 

doubt  to  come  and  sit  within  its  compass,  no  sepa 
rations  or  divisions.  This  is  not  fondly  loosing  the 
reins  of  a  human  imagination.  Jesus  Christ  assures 
us  that  heaven  is  home.  We  shall  never  quite  get 
home,  or  know  what  home  is,  —  what  is  purity,  feli 
city,  or  mutual  regard  and  devotion  of  all  its  loving 
parts,  till  we  get  there.  Our  dwellings  here  are  but 
the  cradles  in  which  the  infancy  of  home  is  rocked. 
There  home  will  be  matured,  and  be  as  much  more 
splendid  as  the  blossom  is  than  the  seed ;  accom 
plished  in  all  that  the  domestic  heart,  beating  in  a 
mother's  bosom,  or  back  from  a  child's  breast,  could 
hope  or  wish.  Have  we  a  good  home  to  live  for  ? 
We  have,  if  loyal,  a  better  one  to  die  for,  and  to 
live  in  for  ever.  The  happy  home,  in  which  elders 
are  honored  and  obeyed,  and  youth  not  provoked, 
but  nurtured,  and  brethren  and  sisters  dwell  toge 
ther  in  unity,  —  it  is  itself,  in  its  highest  glory,  but 
an  image  and  prediction  of  the  family  in  heaven. 

But,  beyond  immediate  kindred,  we  live  for  the 
society  of  our  fellow-beings  in  general.  How  large 
a  part  of  human  enjoyment  and  improvement  is 
comprised  in  this  privilege  of  society  !  What  pro 
verbially  more  melancholy  drawback  in  the  advan 
tages  of  any  place,  than  that  it  has  no  society! 
Especially  in  regard  to  those  who  seem  specially 
fitted  for  society  by  nature,  by  a  certain  inborn 
sweetness  and  dignity  suited  to  make  others  happy, 
and  be  themselves  made  happy,  in  a  wide  social 
intercourse,  —  sunny,  smiling  souls, —  or  who,  by 


TO    LIVE    AND    DIE    FOR.  287 

the  cultivation  of  their  powers,  can  benefit,  as  well 
as  please,  any  company,  —  what  a  sad  blow  and 
envious  grudging  of  human  welfare,  it  seems,  to 
remove  them  from  the  circles  which  they  decorate 
with  their  gracious  manners,  and  ennoble  by  their 
pure  and  gentle  words !  All  the  companionship 
they  are  withdrawn  from  joins  with  the  domestic 
hearth  they  sat  by  in  bereavement  and  sorrow. 
Indeed,  how  much  they  had  to  live  for ! 

But  what,  then,  is  it  that  they  had  to  die  for  ? 
For  a  society  of  wisdom  and  goodness,  of  flowing 
and  genial  fellowship,  to  which  ah1  the  proudest, 
gay,  and  glittering  assemblies  of  earth  are  but  as 
the  tinsel  to  the  gold.  Your  lighted  halls  and  splen 
did  dresses  and  rapturous  music  and  merry  dances, 
voices  ringing  with  glad  laughter,  faces  wreathed 
in  smiles  and  beaming  with  delight,  are  but  the 
attempted  beginning  and  poor  prelude  of  that  celes 
tial  harmony ;  as  when  a  musician  passes  his  hand 
over  the  strings,  before  commencing  the  tune  which 
he  will  play  by  and  by. 

The  faculty  for  social  pleasure  seems  infinite  in 
the  nature  of  man.  If  one  should  essay  the  picture 
of  a  perfect  state,  would  he  not  very  likely  com 
mence  with  picking  out  the  choicest  companions 
he  had  known,  those  most  able  to  thrill  and  gladden 
him  with  their  benignant  presence  and  sparkling 
wit,  with  the  eloquence  and  melody  of  their  utte 
rance,  and  a  share  of  the  honey  of  wisdom  from 
their  hived  experience?  But  what  description  of 


288  WHAT    THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS 

earthly  fact,  or  what  expression  of  the  heart's  long 
ing,  can  equal  the  reality  that  awaits  God's  lowly 
and  obedient  ones  there  ?  Select  a  thousand,  or  ten 
thousand,  excellent,  brilliant,  refined  as  you  please 
or  can  fancy;  earnest  and  affectionate  as  Paul, 
loving  and  spiritual  as  John,  devout  as  Fenelon, 
soaring  and  sublime  in  imagination  and  worship  as 
Milton,  humane  as  Howard  and  Clarkson,  and  pure 
and  tender  as  all  the  noble  women  from  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  down.  Then  gather  them  into 
one  city,  safely  compassed  about  in  a  pleasant 
habitation,  to  exchange  tokens  of  regard  and  kind 
offices  of  friendship,  and  to  train  up  young  and 
innocent  spirits  in  accordance  with  their  own  high 
converse ;  and  you  have  perhaps  the  grandest  por 
traiture  of  paradise  that  heart  could  wish.  Yet  you 
only  try  for,  and  fall  short  of,  that  real  New  Jerusa 
lem,  where  meet  the  saints  of  all  ages,  with  Christ 
himself,  no  longer  an  invisible  spirit,  but  a  personal 
form,  a  recognizable  countenance  and  person,  at 
their  head. 

Have  they,  then,  who  are  cheered  by  society,  or 
are  its  ornaments  here,  nothing  to  die  for  as  well 
as  to  live  for?  We  must  die  for  that  society. 
Death  alone  can  introduce  us.  He  is  the  solitary 
marshal  and  solemn  leader  of  mortals  to  that 
troop. 

What,  in  fine,  would  we  live  for  ?  Would  we 
live  to  learn  of  the  being  and  character  of  Him 
who  made  us  ?  This  verily  is  the  highest  state- 


TO    LIVE    AND    DIE    FOR.  289 

ment.  There  could  not  be  a  grander  object  of 
existence. 

"  To  know  the  Author  of  our  frame, "  — 

Him  who  wove  this  curious  garment  of  flesh  over 
this  mysterious  and  undying  spirit ;  to  come  into 
acquaintance  and  close  communion  with  him, — 
oh !  that  must  be  the  greatest  elevation  and  utmost 
gladness  of  our  nature.  But  how  imperfectly  here 
we  know  him  !  How  he  retires  within,  and  disap 
pears  behind  his  works !  How  inadequate  pro 
bably  our  present  drowsy  powers  are  for  a  nearer 
view  !  Some  of  the  best  men  have  complained  of 
their  inability  to  come  closer  to  God.  They  go 
forward  and  backward,  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
do  not  find  him ;  and  they  speak  of  the  veil  that 
here  seems  to  be  over  his  face,  and  the  distance  at 
which  they  are  kept  from  him.  But  there  is  a 
more  intimate  union  possible.  There  is  a  warmer 
embrace  in  his  arms  destined  for  his  children.  But 
we  must  die  for  it !  and  we  have  thus  more  to  die 
for  than  we  could  have  to  live  for, — 

"Were  we  possessors  of  the  earth,. 
And  called  the  stars  our  own." 

One  is  cut  down  in  the  flower  and  prime  of  his 
youth  ;  while  another  is  taken  like  a  shock  of  corn 
in  his  season.  We  confess  the  decease  of  the  latter 
to  be  timely.  But  of  the  former  we  say,  and  sor 
rowfully  exclaim,  How  much  he  had  to  live  for! 
25 


WHAT    THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS 

And  what  was  it  he  had  to  live  for  ?  To  study  the 
various  branches  of  knowledge,  and  unfold  his  in 
tellectual  energies  ?  Suppose,  then,  he  is  translated 
to  deeper  and  finer  disclosures  of  the  creative 
strength  and  skill,  with  more  room  to  pursue  favor 
ite  sciences  through  the  realms  of  matter  and  of 
mind ;  to  look  in  perhaps  among  the  wheels  on 
which  this  sum  of  things  is  turning,  and  fathom  the 
springs  of  motive  in  the  Infinite  Mind,  —  shall  his 
original  purpose  fail  ?  No  !  That  which  life  be 
gan,  death  shall  only  further. 

Would  we  live  for  duty  and  the  divine  service  ? 
Surely,  what  else  should  we  live  for  ? 

"We  would  not  breathe  for  worldly  joy, 

Nor  to  increase  our  worldly  good  ; 
Nor  future  days  or  powers  employ, 
To  spread  a  sounding  name  abroad." 

But  for  what,  then,  save  higher  duty,  and  a  purer 
service  in  heaven,  do  the  faithful  die  ? 

Surely,  it  is  not  despising  this  life  to  celebrate 
the  good  and  wise  designs  of  God  in  death.  Life 
at  all,  the  sense  of  existence,  in  this  material  world, 
only  breathing  the  sweet  air,  seeing  the  pure  light, 
and  beholding  around  God's  happy  creatures,  is  a 
ground  of  unspeakable  gratitude.  This  body,  with 
its  motions  and  senses,  is  a  marvellous  instrument 
to  express  and  to  feed  the  soul.  We  might  well 
choose  to  live  for  the  sake  of  living  in  such  a 
scene  ;  like  a  child,  with  his  ecstasy  amid  the  birds 


TO    LIVE    AND   DIE    FOR.  291 

and  bees  and  blossoms  of  spring ;  or  a  man,  on 
some  bright  morning  that  shows  him  the  world 
has  not,  with  his  rolling  years  and  changing  life, 
altered  or  grown  old,  —  remembering  and  feeling,  as 
though  he  had  become  a  little  one  again,  his  child 
hood's  ecstasy.  But,  when  the  decrepitude  of  years 
sinks  into  the  frame,  or  early  disease  and  infirmity 
seize  it ;  when  the  eye  grows  dim,  and  the  ear 
deaf,  to  earthly  sights  and  sounds  of  beauty  and 
comfort,  —  oh !  then  is  there  not  far  more  to  die 
than  to  live  for?  To  live  in  the  body  is,  then, 
for  sickness  and  suffering ;  but  to  die,  for  a  new 
spiritual  body  to  mount  up  like  eagles.  Oh  !  how 
grateful  I  often  think  the  departed  spirit  must  be 
for  this  very  thing  to  have  been  permitted  by  God 
to  lay  aside  for  ever  "  this  frail  and  weary  weed  of 
mortality;"  this  load  of  clay,  that  has  dragged  it 
down  to  the  bed  of  languishing,  for  that  other  body 
in  which  it  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,  and  walk 
and  not  faint ! 

God,  therefore,  has  not  sent  life  for  a  blessing, 
and  death  for  a  curse ;  life  for  smiles,  and  death  for 
bitter  tears  ;  life  for  bright  robes  and  garlands,  and 
death  only  for  the  black  and  heavy  pall.  If  we 
knew  both  privileges,  according  to  the  real  rank 
which  they  should  hold  in  our  minds,  while  grate 
ful  for  this  life,  we  should  yet  more  magnify  death. 
We  should  somewhat  disrobe  the  glory  of  this  ter 
restrial  state,  and  go  to  put  crown  and  laurel  on  his 
head,  till  the  King  of  Terrors  were  clothed  magnifi- 


292  WHAT    THE    CHRISTIAN    HAS 

cently,  and  his  dark  antechamber  more  inviting 
than  the  courts  of  a  palace.  The  last  enemy 
would  smile  upon  us  as  a  friend.  Joy  would  fly 
from  many  of  her  boasted  haunts,  to  hover  with 
grief  over  the  grave ;  and  we  should  feel  that,  if 
we  have  much  to  live  for,  we  have  incomparably 
more  to  die  for. 

But,  in  fine,  one  thing  we  must  remember.  All 
this  is  Paul's  alternative,  and  the  alternative  of 
those  like  him ;  not  that  of  the  unfaithful  and 
unchristian.  If  we  be  loyal  to  God  and  our  fellow- 
creatures,  whichever  side  in  the  scale  of  our  destiny 
goes  down,  that  bearing  the  fortunes  of  the  present 
existence,  or  that  laden  with  the  fate  of  the  other, 
can  yield  us  only  blessing.  But,  with  the  faithless 
and  wicked,  all  is  reversed.  With  the  grand  dis 
tinction  of  character,  —  the  only  distinction  worth 
thinking  of  or  naming,  —  the  universe,  time,  eter 
nity,  as  a  very  little  thing,  turns  and  changes.  By 
wrong-doing,  our  small  fingers  can  alter  to  us  the 
whole  huge  world,  —  making  life  no  satisfying  min 
ister,  and  death  no  gracious  benefactor ;  the  beauty 
of  this  lower  sphere  eclipsed,  and  gloom  over  the 
regions  beyond ;  home  not  happy,  and  the  hea 
venly  home  not  real  or  accessible ;  society  hostile, 
and  no  better  society  within  reach  ;  honor  in  the 
divine  service  not  here  known,  or  hereafter  ex 
pected;  the  mortal  life  low,  and  so  any  immortal 
continuation  of  it  visionary,  or  a  cheap  and  doubt 
ful  boon.  Nothing  but  keeping  faith  with  God  and 


TO    LIVE    AND    DIE    FOR.  293 

man  transforms  and  glorifies  the.  creation,  makes 
the  splendors  of  the  better  country  shine  through, 
along  the  valley  of  tears  runs  a  path  to  the  man 
sions  where  is  no  weeping,  and  turns  the  last  door 
that  shall  open  to  us  below  into  the  entrance  of 
life  everlasting.  Nothing  but  faithfulness  reveals 
the  solid,  permanent  quality  of  our  being,  shows  it 
armed  against  the  powers  of  fate,  neither  the  sport 
of  nature's  elements,  nor  the  prey  of  their  destroy 
ing  fury ;  not  quenched  in  her  watery  floods,  nor 
torn  in  the  explosions  of  her  vapor  and  fire ;  not 
withering  under  the  touch  of  her  decay,  or  expiring 
with  the  last  breath  of  her  sublunary  air ;  but  rising 
out  of  all  corruption,  overthrow,  and  ruin,  with 
steady,  undying  pulse,  into  the  atmosphere  of  im 
mortality.  While  its  neglected  garb  falls  behind, 
the  soul  comes  to  know  the  blessedness  into  which 
it  is  led,  from  life  through  death  ;  and  finds  that  its 
object  in  living  and  dying  was,  by  the  just  and 
unchangeable  One,  made  eternally  the  same. 


25* 


294 


DISCOURSE   XXII. 


THE  CHRISTIAN   IDEA   OF   HEAVEN   AND   HELL. 

Matt.  v.  20,  29.  —  EXCEPT  YOUR  RIGHTEOUSNESS   SHALL  EXCEED 

THE  RIGHTEOUSNESS  OF  THE  SCRIBES  AND  PHARISEES,  YE  SHALL 
IN  NO  CASE  ENTER  INTO  THE  XINGDOM  OP  HEAVEN.  ...  IT  IS  PRO 
FITABLE  FOR  THEE  THAT  ONE  OP  THY  MEMBERS  SHOULD  PERISH, 
AND  NOT  THAT  THY  WHOLE  BODY  SHOULD  BE  CAST  INTO  HELL. 

THE  Christian  doctrine  of  reward  and  retribution 
is  not  unfrequently  put  into  the  form  of  expression 
which  is  employed  in  our  text.  It  is  important  to 
understand  the  meaning  of  the  terms  heaven  and 
hell,  as  thus  used.  I  propose  to  seek  for  this  mean 
ing,  not  by  the  method  of  any  minute,  critical  inves 
tigation,  but  by  setting  forth,  in  their  substantial 
force,  the  ideas  which  such  language,  in  its  earlier 
or  later  application,  conveys  to  the  mind. 

Heaven  is  the  lofty  region  of  aspiration  and  love 
and  hope ;  and  hell,  the  base  one  of  degradation  and 
hate  and  fear.  Such  has  been  the  natural  thought 
of  mankind  in  all  ages.  The  pagan's  notion  of  the 
spiritual  was,  however,  involved  in  his  erroneous 
conception  of  the  material  world  as  a  boundless 
plain,  in  the  regions  below  which,  considered  as  alike 
infinite,  and  as  through  the  grave  alone  accessible 


HEAVEN   AND    HELL.  295 

to  the  departed  spirit,  room  must  be  found  not  for 
a  miserable  Tartarus  merely,  but  for  the  blessed 
Elysium  too. 

Science  and  the  gospel,  revealing  the  true  con 
stitution  of  the  material  and  spiritual  worlds,  have 
strangely  shortened  this  fathomless  depth,  and  dis 
persed  this  unlimited  gloom.  Heaven  is  above,  and 
hell  is  still  below :  but  that  which  is  above  is  now 
to  the  imagination  vast,  and  that  below  is  small. 
The  dark  profound  of  hell  no  more  equally  divides 
the  creation  with  heaven,  than  Satan  so  divides  it 
with  God.  Under  color  of  an  evangelic  view,  to 
consider  hell  as  the  hemisphere  of  all  nature  is  to 
entertain  a  heathen  faith  contradictory  both  to  the 
fact  of  God's  work  and  to  the  goodness  of  his  mind. 
No,  thank  the  great  Father !  heaven  is  the  high  and 
broad  and  universally  extending  space ;  and  hell,  the 
mean  and  close  and  smothering.  Heaven  rises  and 
soars  over  the  antipodes  as  over  our  own  heads ; 
over  the  Indian  as  over  the  American  clime ;  over 
turban  and  pagoda  as  over  roof  and  spire :  nor  is 
there  any  quarter  of  the  bending  globe  from  which 
faithful  souls  —  who,  as  the  New  Testament  de 
clares,  in  every  nation  serving  God  and  working 
righteousness,  are  accepted  of  him  —  may  not  as 
cend  to  it ;  though  hell  is  the  equally  open  descent 
for  all  treachery  and  sin. 

As  the  majestic  sun  starts  out  of  the  sea  on  his 
magnificent  way,  and  traces  his  sublime,  upward 
scope  while  he  goes  on  filling  the  sky  all  round  the 


296  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

globe  with  his  warming  lustre,  and  makes  every 
thing  else  underneath  appear  small ;  his  rolling  orb 
seems  to  point  out  the  compass  of  that  moral 
heaven,  to  which,  as  also  to  the  caverns  of  hell,  with 
double  diverging  bridge,  this  middle  part  of  earth 
opens.  Heaven  is  the  vast,  and  hell  the  confined : 
such  is  the  teaching  and  implication  of  Scripture. 
There  are  in  heaven  seats  on  seats  and  circles  after 
circles,  with  choirs  of  juniors  and  elders,  in  succes 
sive  range,  with  ranks  and  hosts,  that  no  man  can 
number,  of  angelic  and  archangelic  excellence.  But 
hell  is  never  represented  as  containing  such  im 
mense  company,  or  large  accommodation,  or  well- 
ordered  and  harmonious  variety.  There  is  the  devil 
and  his  angels,  with  the  many  sinners  from  this 
world  tempted  down  the  broad  way  of  destruction ; 
and  that  is  all,  save  a  confusion  in  the  night  of 
wanderings  and  groans.  Heaven  is  a  word  very 
frequently  occurring  in  the  Scriptures :  hell  is  com 
paratively  rare.  Heaven  is  often  by  the  inspired 
writers  spoken  of  in  fine  exulting  strains,  as  the 
great  and  glorious  domain :  hell  is  sadly  referred  to 
as  out  of  the  way,  some  pent-up  abode  of  penalty 
and  restraint.  Heaven  is  the  place  of  expansion 
and  reach  and  growth,  where  there  is  endless  room 
for  all  motion  and  increase ;  hell,  a  hold  and  prison, 
shutting  in  what  belongs  to  it,  in  woful  strictness, 
tx>  dwindle  and  decay.  Such  is  the  idea  suggested 
by  Christ's  parable,  and  specially  by  that  valley  of 
Hinnom,  the  very  name  of  hell,  which  was  but  the 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  297 

receptacle  of  all  refuse,  of  whatever  was  to  be  left 
in  neglect  or  burnt  up. 

But  though  heaven  is  so  large,  and  hell  so  com 
paratively  small,  let  it  not  be  thought  that  my  pre 
sent  purpose  is  to  extol  the  splendors  of  the  one,  or 
to  disparage  the  apprehensions  and  scare  away  the 
spectres  of  the  other.  I  propose  not  to  magnify  the 
easiness  of  approach  to  the  former,  or  to  slight  the 
imminent  danger  and  impending  terror  of  the  latter. 
Nothing  but  virtue  and  purity,  nothing  but  benevo 
lence  and  humility,  nothing  but  love  of  God  and 
likeness  to  Christ,  can  grow  and  mount  into  heaven, 
big  and  glorious  as  it  is:  meantime  all  vice  and 
folly,  all  impiety  and  malignity,  all  pride  and  vanity, 
must  go  down  into  the  dungeon  and  the  pit,  how 
ever  narrow.  But  the  peculiarity  in  this  Christian 
form  of  reward  and  retribution  is,  that  it  shows  all 
the  noble  and  worthy  qualities  as  enlarging  and 
preserving  our  being,  and  lifting  it  up  into  new 
measures  of  honor  and  durable  joy ;  but  sets  forth 
all  disloyalty  as  contracting  the  soul,  letting  down 
its  stature,  and  consigning  it  at  last,  in  a  sort  of 
mental  consumption,  poor  and  dim  with  fading 
consciousness,  to  hell,  to  waste  away  and  perish 
with  the  dross  and  offscouring  of  the  world. 

Hell  is  thus  not  so  much  torment  as  loss.  It  has 
>rment  for  a  warning ;  but,  the  warning  being  re- 
sed,  the  torment  leads  to  and  ends  in  privation  of 
happiness  and  extinction  of  power.  Compared 
with  the  infinite  heaven,  it  is  indeed  but  a  petty 


298  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

cell,  as  the  valley  of  Hinnom  was  to  the  huge  swell 
of  the  earth.  But  let  us  not  therefore  imagine  we 
can  afford  to  smile  at  it  or  be  inspired  by  it  with  no 
dread.  It  is  large  enough  for  our  decay.  There  is 
room  in  it  for  death  and  annihilation  of  faculty.  It 
has  space  to  provide  our  souls  a  grave.  It  lacks 
not  horrid  chambers  abundant  to  lodge  all  who 
wish  to  travel  and  take  passage  that  way.  If  we 
let  the  spirit  in  us  run  into  the  excitement  of  unholy 
passions,  into  the  ruin  of  falsehood  and  fraud,  or 
into  the  slow  and  sure  decline  of  selfishness ;  if  the 
love  of  pleasure  be  suffered  to  infect  us,  or  licentious 
profligacy  to  touch  us  with  its  plague  ;  never  doubt 
there  will  be  verge  enough  in  hell  to  receive  and 
awfully  secure  us.  A  splendid  palace  goes  down, 
in  the  fire,  into  a  very  little  ashes ;  and  dwelling 
and  tower  are  by  the  stream  swept  out  of  human 
sight  and  admiration  into  irrecoverable  wreck.  In 
what  small  enclosures  and  imperceptible  seclusions 
is  the  glory  of  the  world  buried !  And  ah !  how 
miserably  will  your  heart,  if  you  expose  it  to  every 
flame  of  ungodly  rage  and  every  disease  of  iniqui 
tous  habit,  be  trampled  under  foot  and  thrown  care 
lessly  away!  and  even  the  spiritual  nature  in  you, 
with  the  costly  structures  that  adorned  the  world, 
and  the  once  proud,  gay  flesh  of  a  hundred  genera 
tions,  sink  and  disappear. 

Then  despise  ye  not,  neither  mock  at,  the  strength 
and  grasp  of  hell,  though  it  be  of  such  inferior 
dimensions  to  the  mansions  of  heaven.  Let  it  be 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL. 

no  subject  of  thoughtless  laughter  and  fearless  ridi 
cule,  reduced,  as  it  may  be,  from  the  portentous 
size  which  it  once  occupied  in  men's  fancy,  to  a 
miserable  keep  of  offenders  and  rebels,  in  a  corner 
of  the  lordly  castle  of  the  world ;  or  transformed 
from  a  furnace  or  wheel  of  everlasting,  immitigable 
torture,  to  a  spot  of  mouldering  and  nothingness ; 
or  appearing  as  the  conflagration  of  abused  abili 
ties,  shooting  up  but  to  cease.     Think  not  lightly 
of  a  hell  like  this,  even  if  you  believe  some  germ  of 
immortality  will  survive  out  of  it  unconsumed,  or 
though   you  be   convinced  that  God  will   finally 
rescue  all  his  offspring  into  blessedness.     To  one 
aware  of  his  relation  to  God ;  of  his  capacity  for 
holiness,  and  limitless  spiritual  unfolding ;  of  the 
individual  or  social  destiny  of  the  just  and  true 
and  loving,  —  what  idea  can  be  more  frightful  than 
the  blasting  and  failure  of  all  this,  through  sloth 
and  disobedience,  into  cold  forgetfulness !     From 
what  could  a  discerning  spirit  more  convulsively 
shrink    than    from    this    fearful    plunge    into    the 
drowning  waters,  to  let  the  Lethe  of  oblivion  pass 
over  all   its   finer  feelings ;   or  from  the  creeping 
of  this  deadly  sleep,  as  over  the  traveller  through 
the  snows,  to  fasten  on  every  gracious  affection ; 
and  then  to  live  on,  if  life  continue,  in  dispossession 
of  inward  birthright,  under  a  stupefying  stricture  of 
reason  and  the  heart,  with  the  mark  of  diabolic 
seizure  upon  the  richest  revenue  of  the  soul,  de 
prived  of  the  privileges  of  love  and  worship  and 


300  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

holiness,  bereft  of  what  is  manly,  and  kept  a  stran 
ger  to  all  that  is  divine;  half — and  oh!  that  far 
the  better  half  —  of  our  real  property  alienated, 
fenced  off,  and  blotted  out !  Does  anybody  want 
a  more  dreadful  idea  of  hell  than  that  ?  From 
that  will  not  every  one  flee  for  his  life  ? 

Hell  is  regarded  as  something  future.  Ah !  if 
we  are  transgressors  of  the  law ;  if  we  have  given 
up  the  reins  to  inclination,  or  sunk  into  the  rut  of 
evil  habit ;  if  we  have  become  plotters  against  the 
rights  of  others,  or  the  prey  of  our  own  senses  and 
appetites,  —  we  shall  hardly  have  to  wait  for  the 
revelations  of  another  world  to  know  what  hell  is. 
The  dulling  of  our  perceptions,  the  diminishing  of 
our  vitality,  the  weakening  of  our  judgment;  the 
beating  back  of  every  aspiration  after  good,  and 
the  eclipse  of  every  intuition  of  celestial  honor 
and  bliss ;  in  fine,  the  limitation  and  lowering  to 
destruction  of  our  very  nature ;  the  blindness  and 
deafness  and  insensibility  of  our  soul,  —  that  is 
hell ;  nor  could  there  be  any  other  so  awful. 

To  this  terrific  power  we  can  fix  no  limitation 
in  time,  any  more  than  we  give  a  precise  definition 
of  its  place.  It  began  when  and  where,  beyond  our 
knowledge,  sin  began :  it  can  end  only  when  and 
where  iniquity  shall  end.  So  indefinitely,  in  the 
oracles  of  our  faith,  it  is  described  by  the  word, 
which,  with  somewhat  various  and  dubious  sense, 
is  translated  everlasting.  Everywhere,  whensoever 
a  soul  violates  the  law  of  God,  commences  its  havoc 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  301 

and  waste,  —  threatening,  if  the  violation  be  per 
sisted  in,  utter  ruin.  The  Bible  does  not  declare 
the  interminable  torture  of  any  one  now  designable 
person,  but  wakens  a  fearful  looking-for  of  judg 
ment  to  come,  and  delivers  over  to  despair  the 
whole  class  and  category  of  wickedness  and  the 
wicked.  Hell  is  something  for  ever  after  sin,  to 
smite  and  enfeeble  and  pull  down  its  subject.  It  is 
the  withering  and  collapse  and  combustion  of  the 
world ;  the  undying  worm  whose  food  is  in  man's 
corruption,  and  the  unquenchable  fire  whose  fuel 
is  the  neglected,  abused,  and  falling  house  of  the 
soul.  Its  worst  horribleness  is  not  the  pain  of  our 
compunction  at  guilt;  for  in  all  pain  there  is  life 
and  hope ;  but  the  mournful  blankness  and  vacancy 
into  which  it  wrestles  down  and  quenches  the 
noblest  abilities  and  richest  endowments.  When 
ever  we  are  tempted,  by  self-indulgence  or  daring 
crime,  to  break  the  divine  command,  shall  we  not 
think  of  such  a  fate,  and  recoil  ? 

Nay,  shall  we  not  more  and  rather  think  of  the 
contrast  to  this  in  the  development  by  virtue  of  all 
power  and  holy  gladness,  through  which  we  may 
enter  the  opposite  state?  For,  if  hell  is  death, 
heaven  is  growth  and  life  ;  and  while  there  is  room 
below  for  all  to  crumble  that  we  are  willing,  in  our 
madness  and  folly,  to  cast  away ;  as  it  takes  no  ex 
travagant  space  for  the  heap  of  weeds  or  the  blasted 
and  rusting  harvest  to  fade  and  vanish,  till  the  icy 
winds  howl  by,  and  we  know  not  where  it  is ;  so 
26 


302  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

there  is  room  above,  in  the  many-mansioned  place, 
for  all  good  qualities  to  expand  and  flourish.  No 
death  of  the  body  shall  ever  claim  them,  too,  for  its 
portion.  They  shall  ascend  to  heaven  out  of  the 
ruin  of  the  fleshly  covering,  and  beyond  the  cell  and 
pressure  of  the  tomb.  For  grandly  has  the  Lord 
laid  out  his  garden  in  the  universe;  broad  and 
magnificent,  the  plantation  into  which  he  shall 
transfer  every  seed  of  excellence  to  root  and  spring 
for  ever:  only  the  barren,  unfruitful  shall  be  left 
without  the  gate  to  perish. 

Christ  tells  us  only  a  real  righteousness  shall 
thus  be  permitted  to  survive  and  endure,  —  a  righ 
teousness  exceeding  the  poor  pretence  thereof  in 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees.  It  must  be  sincere  and 
earnest  piety  and  humanity,  genuine  lowliness  and 
purity,  unaffected  meekness  and  sobriety.  Nothing 
that  looks  like  these  things  in  the  eyes  of  men  can 
be  accepted  for  the  heavenly  culture  and  training, 
unless  it  be  also  true  in  the  sight  of  God.  We 
cannot,  by  taking  thought,  add  one  cubit  to  our 
stature,  or  turn  one  hair  of  our  head  black  or  white. 
But  we  can  exalt  and  widen  the  proportions  of  our 
inward  being.  We  can  make  our  gray  head  a 
crown  of  glory,  if  we  do  not  make  it  a  badge  of 
shame.  Our  youth,  obedient  to  the  Creator,  can 
gain  that  wisdom  which  is  the  gray  hair  to  man, 
and  show  that  unspotted  life  which  is  all  that  is 
desirable  in  old  age.  For  the  sake  of  our  darling 
sin,  to  retain  and  indulge  our  evil  members,  we  can 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  303 

let  our  whole  body,  all  our  manhood,  go  down  into 
hell ;  or,  by  our  faithful  nurture  of  every  part  of  this 
wondrous  frame  which  God  has  given  us,  we  can 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

But  perhaps  these  Christian  views  of  heaven  and 
hell,  as  expressing  the  reward  and  retribution  atten 
dant  on  the  diverse  characters  and  deeds  of  men, 
may  be  made  more  clear  by  adducing  some  confir 
matory  illustrations  from  that  divine  Providence, 
which  unfolds  its  results  in  our  own  experience. 

We  see  one  of  these  in  the  difference  between 
the  pains  and  afflictions  laid  on  us  by  the  hand  of 
God,  and  those  incurred  by  our  own  sin  and  folly. 
It  may  please  him  to  scourge  us  sorely  for  our 
good,  to  take  away  what  is  dearest  to  our  heart,  or 
to  rain  horrible  plagues  of  disease  on  our  bare 
head ;  but  if,  in  all  this,  we  can  see  but  the  wise 
appointment  of  our  Father  to  perfect  our  nature, 
and  raise  us  up  to  ever-new  degrees  of  holiness, 
by  the  discipline  with  which  he  exercises  even  the 
innocent  and  the  righteous,  we  can  stand  amid  our 
agonies  with  a  certain  exquisite  and  exulting  glad 
ness  of  spirit.  With  mournful  dignity  and  a  grand 
submission,  we  yield  to  the  Power  that  deals  with 
us  in  anguish,  and  means  thereby  a  blessing.  But 
if,  with  the  high  hand  of  our  own  impiety  and 
presumption,  we  have  plucked  down  the  ruin  up 
on  ourselves ;  if  our  evil  temper  and  ill  manners 
have  exposed  us  to  danger  and  woe,  and  our 
offences  or  negligences  pierced  us  through  with 


304  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

many  sorrows,  —  ah  !  there  is  no  such  salve  for 
their  smarting,  nor  any  such  Almighty  arm  to  help 
us  to  bear  the  load.  A  man,  for  example,  may  have 
some  natural  weakness,  some  constitutional  and 
hereditary  taint  of  body,  which  presses  him  down 
with  a  burden  of  debility  ;  leads  him  to  seek  many 
physicians,  and  try  continually  new  and  vain  reme 
dies  ;  or  lacerates  him  with  distress,  and  drives 
him  over  land  and  sea,  the  slave  and  follower  of 
the  journeying  sun,  into  other  climes,  in  weary 
quest  of  relief.  But  what  a  marvellous  and  mea 
sureless  satisfaction  he  carries  with  him  in  being 
able  to  say,  "  It  is  God's  will ;  I  brought  it  not 
wittingly  on  myself  by  the  violation  of  his  law"! 
What  a  wall  of  enormous  boundary,  in  feeling  and 
condition,  separates  him  from  the  man  who  is  con 
strained  in  his  secret  mind  to  acknowledge  that  his 
own  guilty  fingers  scattered  the  baleful  seed  that  has 
come  to  such  blossoming ;  and  the  reaper  was  the 
planter,  too,  of  the  fruit !  Oh  !  that  alone  deserves 
the  name  of  wretchedness,  to  know,  in  our  groan 
ing,  that  it  is  but  our  intemperance  or  violence  that 
is  making  us  a  visit ;  that  our  self-indulgence,  put* 
ting  on  another  dress,  has  become  self-destruction  ; 
that  the  curse  has  returned  to  the  blasphemer, 
the  chalice  to  him  that  poisoned  it,  and  he  that 
took  the  sword  perishes  with  the  sword.  Yes  :  to 
feel  that  our  youthful  cheek  is  thin  and  pale,  not 
with  any  disinterested  daily  or  midnight  devotion, 
but  in  the  watches  of  unlawful  gratification  ;  to 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  305 

look  and  see  that  our  gray  hairs  are  no  tokens  of 
long  toil  in  the  service  of  God,  but  have  grown  out 
of  the  soil  we  have  made,  the  morass  of  our  sloth, 
or  the  gullies  of  our  excess ;  that  our  eyes  are  dim, 
not  with  noble  study,  but  with  base  sensuality ; 
that  our  hand  is  tremulous,  not  from  being  so  often 
nerved  with  generous  emotions,  but  trampled  and 
shaken  with  mean  desires ;  that,  like  the  building 
struck  with  lightning,  and  torn  open  to  decay,  or 
ruined  with  damp  rot,  so  passion  has  smitten,  or 
vice  eaten  into  us,  thus  to  infect  the  whole  struc 
ture  of  our  being  with  corruption,  or  carry  it  down 
into  miserable  lapse,  —  this,  indeed,  is  hell  on  earth  : 
while  he  whom  God  chastens,  or  a  mortal  foe  pur 
sues,  may,  like  Stephen,  look  up  into  heaven,  and 
see  the  divine  glory. 

Sickness  is  a  different  thing,  sorrow  is  a  different 
thing,  death  is  a  different  thing,  according  as  it 
comes  in  the  companionship  of  virtue  or  in  fellow 
ship  with  guilt.  To  have  a  good  child,  whom  we 
have  trained  to  goodness,  removed  into  the  eternal 
world,  is  not  such  a  grief  as  to  have  a  bad,  neglected 
one  removed.  To  be  pale  and  sad  at  God's  doing 
is  different  from  blushing  with  disgrace  at  our  own. 
In  the  chamber  of  mourning  to  stand  up  in  honor 
and  purity  over  the  dead  is  different  from  rising  in 
a  burning  shame  that  seems  to  touch  the  coffin  and 
penetrate  to  the  ashes  within.  Wonder  not  at  such 
instances.  We  have  in  this  matter  no  election 
where  or  when  we  will  contemplate  these  opposite 
26* 


306  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

issues  from  the  grand  alternative  of  righteousness 
and  guilt.  The  law  of  retribution  is  no  delicate 
and  shrinking  thing,  that  respects  our  privacies,  or 
retires  from  our  solemnities,  or  will  hold  any  time 
or  place  sacred  from  its  ever-legitimate  intrusion. 
It  can  glorify  the  dust  which  was  associated  only 
with  cleanness  and  honor  while  it  throbbed ;  and  it 
can  make  the  cold  corpse  but  a  white  monument 
of  iniquity,  from  which  we  shrink  in  aversion,  even 
while  the  cords  of  nature  draw  us  toward  it ;  be 
cause  it  bears,  oh !  no  such  blameless  stigmas  as 
those  in  the  hands  and  feet  of  the  blessed  One  or  in 
the  features  of  his  followers,  but  only  some  stamp 
of  hollow-eyed  wastefulness,  or  flush  of  extravagant 
rage. 

That  same  law,  like  a  king  erecting  a  banner 
on  the  territory  he  has  discovered  for  his  own, 
claims  the  graveyard,  too,  for  its  possession.  As 
one  walks  through  the  aisles  in  its  green  solitude, 
how  the  names  of  the  good  and  worthy  shine  on 
the  marble !  They  need  no  epitaph,  no  smoothly 
flowing  line  of  poetic  praise,  no  delicate  skill  of  art 
in  the  upward-pointing  finger,  or  sculptured  torch 
flaming  to  the  skies.  Involuntarily  the  reader  of 
the  inscription  lifts  his  eye  to  seek  them  above. 
He  cannot  see  their  virtues  buried  and  pressed 
down  where  the  grass  finds  its  root ;  but,  with  irre 
sistible  impulse  of  spirit,  soars  after  them  into  the 
regions  of  bliss :  while,  to  his  inward  hearkening, 
voices  of  assurance  from  that  upper  sphere  mix 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  307 

with  the  soft  breathing  of  the  winds  and  the  mellow 
note  of  the  trees,  telling  him  of  life  and  peace  and 
progress  and  sweeter  harmonies  there,  of  which  all 
earth's  music  is  but  an  echo.  But  other  names 
are  written  on  those  tablets  of  stone,  which  do 
not  so  mount  and  overcome  the  heap  of  surround 
ing  material  decay.  They  seem  rather  to  signify 
what  is  overlaid,  kept  underneath,  and  gloomily 
hidden  in  the  ground.  All  that  heretofore  apper 
tained  to  them  appears  only  as  poor,  shrunken, 
and  withered.  As  sometimes  with  the  chests  that 
robbers  and  midnight  plunderers  have  essayed  to 
heave  above  the  surface  of  the  sepulchre,  so  is 
this  mortal  weight  too  dead  to  lift  into  the  air 
of  heavenly  life  and  illumination ;  or  whatever 
naked  and  trembling  spirit,  whatever  thin  ex 
hausted  shade,  may  strive  to  wing  its  way  thence 
to  immortality,  leaves  how  much  former  strength 
and  faculty  behind,  stripped  off  by  guilt  to  perish ! 
They  rest  indeed  in  the  power  and  mercy  of  God 
to  take  them  whither  he  will.  But  their  "  proper 
motion "  is  not  to  rise,  nor  does  descent  appear 
to  them  "  adverse." 

Again,  if  we  look  purely  within  the  mind,  we 
notice  the  same  contrast  of  character  and  fate. 
Memory  is  as  different  as  is  death  and  judgment 
to  the  faithless  and  to  the  loyal.  To  a  soul  un 
stained  and  upright  within  the  bosom,  what  bright 
vistas  open  of  retrospection,  down  which  its  glance 
roves,  and  returns  with  ever-fresh  delight !  How 


308  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

memory,  as  in  some  vessel  of  miraculous  shape 
and  ethereal  lightness,  floats  it  swiftly  through  all 
its  life,  and  feasts  it  richly  with  immortal  food  of  its 
own  deeds  done  rightly,  words  spoken  truly,  tokens 
of  love  shown  generously,  and  achievements  of  cou 
rage  rising,  on  occasion  of  need,  into  heroism  !  —  a 
divine  experience,  the  antepast  which  saints  have 
celebrated  of  heaven !  But  how  differently  does 
memory  convey  and  handle  the  unfaithful!  To  the 
man  she  brings  up  the  child  that  he  was,  but  has 
so  corrupted  and  perverted.  Dreadfully  she  rebukes 
him  with  the  surrender  of  his  innocence,  and  dis 
plays  to  him  the  fine  instruments  that  were  in  his 
nature  given,  but  are  now  so  miserably  gapped  and 
broken.  If  he  goes  to  the  spot  of  his  birthplace, 
or  walks  in  the  pasture,  where,  before  moral  error 
began,  his  young  feet  used  to  wander,  memory, 
like  an  invisible  giant,  irresistibly  wrestles  with 
him.  She  casts  him  upon  the  ground,  and  wrings 
from  his  very  heart  the  cry,  —  "  Oh  that  my  inno 
cence  might  come  back  to  me !  O  God !  that  I 
might  be  pure  and  guileless  again  as  I  was ! " 
She  leads  him  into  the  solemn  enclosure  familiar 
to  his  infancy,  holds  him  down  to  spell  out  the 
titles  of  those  he  once  sojourned  with,  and  points 
to  the  divided  directions  that  meet  at  the  turn  of 
his  own  repentance  or  persevering  sin. 

For,  finally,  this  contrast  of  character  and  fate  is 
not  only  around  and  within,  but  also  before  us. 
This  is  the  sum  and  climax,  the  glorious  yet  fear- 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  309 

ful  gift  of  revelation,  in  the  assurance  that  we,  who 
have  worn  this  material  garb,  are  not  to  be  con 
founded  with  matter  at  last,  but  rescued  from  all 
its  decay,  for  a  future  destiny  corresponding  to  our 
character. 

Being  lately  in  a  region  distant  from  any  church, 
I  went,  one  bright  Sabbath  morning,  to  the  top  of 
a  hill,  to  see  the  works  of  God,  and  listen  to  reli 
gious  reading.  As  I  sat  on  a  lonely  hillock,  that 
offered  itself  near  by,  the  beauty  and  mystery  of 
the  world  took  hold  of  me.  The  strange  life 
of  man,  and  his  questionable  fate,  added  their 
doubtful  complexion  to  the  living  splendors  of  the 
day,  and  mixed  with  my  delicious  enjoyment  a 
dull  pain.  My  mind  ran  off  to  mystic  absorption 
in  the  everlasting  magnificent  flux  of  things  from 
pole  to  pole,  —  of  light  and  darkness,  action  or 
rest ;  and  somewhat  mournfully  queried  of  its  own 
entanglement  in  this  wonderful  process,  this  mys 
terious  texture,  so  woven  and  unravelled,  of  crea 
tion  with  my  own  existence.  While  I  reclined 
in  the  cooling  breeze  and  the  pleasant  sunlight, 
with  the  wide  forest  below,  and  the  restless,  dash 
ing,  moaning  ocean  filling  nearly  all  the  horizon 
about,  an  echo  through  the  air,  from  a  far-off  tower, 
took  off  my  attention  from  all  other  sights  or 
sounds.  It  was  the  toll  of  a  bell  summoning  the 
people  to  worship.  It  roused  me  from  the  deep, 
imaginative  repose  amid  the  forms  and  hues  of 
all  this  well-proportioned  grandeur  around,  into 


310  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

which  my  soul  had  sunk.  Ah !  this  is  the  solving 
of  the  question;  this  the  divine  announcement  of  a 
coming  existence  beyond  this  globe,  and  dress  of 
clay!  Yea,  verily,  I  could  not,  help  exclaiming, 
well  may  the  bells  be  rung  for  the  promise,  on 
God's  word,  of  any  release  for  the  soul  from  this 
infatuating  bewilderment  in  nature,  and  any  path 
discovered  ascending  out  of  her  wasting  fields  and 
desert  sands,  into  a  permanent  land  of  life  and  hap 
piness.  Such  disclosure  from  heaven  should  boom 
out  and  reverberate  over  the  earth,  upon  all  the 
winds,  to  every  mortal  ear.  But,  while  I  listened, 
the  note,  swept  from  the  swinging  wheel,  seemed 
to  change  :  some  sadness  mingled  with  the  cheerful 
and  gladsome  tone,  making  it  a  note  of  warning 
and  alarm,  too,  as  though  it  proclaimed  to  the  chil 
dren  of  men,  not  only  this  rising  way  of  honor  to 
blessed  renown,  but  for  the  disobedient  a  descend 
ing  one,  also,  of  darkness  to  discredit  and  eternal 
decay !  So  is  it,  according  to  the  truth  of  the 
Bible,  in  our  choice. 

But  the  more  frequent  mention  and  fond  cele 
bration,  in  Scripture,  of  the  heavenly  world,  allow 
us,  in  fine,  to  leave  this  painful  contrast,  and  fix 
our  thoughts  on  that  region  of  hope  which  is  not 
only  to  be  entered  at  last  by  the  faithful,  but  sends 
down  the  shining  of  its  distant  light  and  glory 
upon  their  earthly  pilgrimage.  The  gospel  is  a 
ministration  to  human  suffering  as  well  as  human 
sin ;  and,  while  portraying  the  consequences  of 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  311 

wrong-doing,  it  has  many  a  gentle  and  comforting 
word  to  those  clad  in  "  this  frail  and  weary  weed 
of  mortality,"  striving  to  do  God's  will.  It  invites 
them  to  pause  awhile  on  their  way ;  to  wipe  the 
dust  from  their  sandals ;  to  lift  up  their  stooping 
heads,  and  behold  afar  the  peace  and  splendor  of 
the  New  Jerusalem  towards  which  they  are  travel 
ling.  Man  will  go  through  the  brazen  sky  of  the 
burning  zone,  or  ternpt  the  iron  rigors  of  the  polar 
air,  to  discover  some  arctic  strait  or  unclaimed 
island,  calling  hardship  pleasure,  and  want  luxury, 
if  wealth  or  honor  be  at  the  end.  Look  up,  then, 
laborers  and  sufferers,  according  to  God's  will ; 
and  behold,  beyond  all  heat  and  frost  and  cala 
mity,  a  land  of  which  every  lower  Canaan  is  but 
an  emblem,  and  temples  and  palaces  of  stone  only 
a  shadow. 

You  may  have  felt  how  it  comforts  the  eye, 
weary  with  the  surrounding  scene  of  conflict  and 
perplexity,  to  look  up  from  the  turmoil  of  affairs  in 
the  murmuring  street,  away  into  the  quiet  depths 
and  peaceful  motions  of  the  ever-serene  and  un 
troubled  sky.  So  does  it  gladden  the  soul  to  turn 
from  the  disturbing  evils  which  wall  vex  the  most 
favored  lot,  into  that  profound  and  tranquil  re 
treat,  where,  their  toils  and  pains  being  over,  God 
gathers  his  true-hearted  servants.  There  they  are, 
above  the  reach  of  collision,  the  power  of  grief,  the 
grasp  of  disease,  and  the  sphere  of  uncertainty. 
The  clouds  that  were  round  about  God's  throne 


312  THE    CHRISTIAN    IDEA    OF 

have  passed  by.  His  way  is  no  longer  in  the  sea, 
and  his  path  in  the  great  waters ;  but  his  footsteps 
are  now  known. 

This  is  our  hope.  Much  has  been  said  of  heaven 
here  below ;  and  the  apostle  declares  "  our  conver 
sation  is  in  heaven."  When  faith  is  strong,  con 
science  clear,  and  the  love  of  God  and  all  goodness 
warm  in  the  breast,  there  is  a  foretaste  of  angelic 
joy.  Some  crumbs  fall  to  earth  of  that  bread  which 
is  eaten  in  the  kingdom  on  high.  But,  while  the 
veil  of  matter  hangs  over  our  sight,  and  the  taber 
nacle  of  clay  closes  round  our  soul ;  while  anguish 
pierces  the  body,  and  bereavement  rends  the  heart, 
and  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  stretches  its 
dark  boundary  between  our  dwelling  and  those 
shining  domains,  —  the  most  daring  imagination 
cannot  quite  place  us  in  heaven.  We  must  not 
be  impatient  to  find  ourselves  there,  but  willing  to 
bear  the  sharp  strokes  by  which  God  cuts  away 
what  is  impure  from  our  character,  as  he  "  maketh 
up  his  jewels."  We  must  wait  cheerfully  the  day 
of  our  deliverance,  in  the  night  of  grief  and  the 
prison  of  confinement  singing  those  songs  which 
Paul  and  Silas  sang,  till  the  time  of  our  release 
shall  come. 

But  earth,  at  its  best  estate,  is  not  heaven.  Alas, 
if  this  scene  of  storm  and  disaster,  where  exposure 
is  unceasing  and  every  possession  precarious,  were 
all  that  is  meant  by  heaven!  When  I  think  of 
heaven,  that  place  where  all  obstructions  to  our 


HEAVEN    AND    HELL.  313 

freedom  shall  be  removed,  and  no  effort  exhaust 
the  energy  of  our  will;  where  our  co-workers  in 
every  good  design  shall  never  be  smitten  down  into 
senseless  clay  at  our  side  ;  where,  the  clogs  of  this 
grosser  organization  being  taken  off,  no  cloud  shall 
come  over  the  reason  of  any  whom  we  love ;  where 
our  meaning  shall  be  no  more  misunderstood,  nor 
our  motives  misinterpreted,  but  some  new  powers 
of  language  convey  them,  or,  no  concealment  being 
needed,  they  shall  shine  with  immediate  transpa 
rency  ;  where  we  shall  exercise  the  faculties  of  our 
minds  without  fatigue,  and  the  affections  of  our 
hearts  without  disappointment,  and  our  moral 
powers  without  sin,  —  while  the  gloomy  oppres 
sions  of  iniquity,  that  in  this  world  overwhelm  us 
from  abroad,  or  rise  up  heavily  out  of  our  own 
bosom,  shall  roll  away  like  clouds  before  the  wind, 
leaving  the  unstained  atmosphere  of  divine  holiness 
and  goodness  to  spread  all  around,  and  brace  every 
purpose  and  right  endeavor,  —  I  feel  that  heaven 
is  something  infinitely  above  all  that  this  sphere 
of  sense  can  show;  and  I  bless  God,  in  the  hu 
mility  of  thanksgiving  unspeakable,  for  holding  out 
on  high  to  our  expectancy  compensations  so  unde 
served,  and  merciful  gratuities  so  glorious.  Ye 
sick!  your  spirit  shall  not  for  ever  strive  with 
flagging  organs,  nor  your  strength  be  spent  on  de 
crepit  members.  Heaven  is  before  you,  the  end  of 
your  pious  endurance ;  and  the  sorer  your  struggle, 
the  nearer  is  it  at  hand.  Ye  sorrowful!  bear  the 
27 


314  HEAVEN    AND    HELL. 

burden  on  your  heart :  you  will  not  have  it  to  bear 
far.  The  grave  is  never  very  distant.  The  angel 
of  peace  will  light  before  you  but  the  more  welcome 
for  her  tarrying,  and  your  heaven  be  sweeter  for 
every  pang  of  earth.  Mourn  not,  disconsolate  over 
the  early  dead !  Is  not  the  innocent  soul  in  hea 
ven?  Lament  not  for  the  just,  ripe  here,  and  there 
made  perfect.  At  the  approach  of  your  spirit's 
trial,  in  the  hour  of  your  bodily  distress,  in  every 
hard  and  perilous  juncture  of  existence,  be  true  to 
God,  and  look  for  the  great  light  above. 

-.    -.-... 


315 


DISCOURSE   XXIII. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF    IMMORTALITY. 
1  Cor.  xv.  53.  —  THIS  MOHTAL  MUST  PUT  ON  IMMORTALITY. 

A  GREAT  deal  of  suffering  or  of  wistful,  uneasy 
longing  arises  in  the  human  soul,  not  from  a  doubt 
of  immortality,  but  from  an  uncertainty  what  the 
character,  the  actual  features  of  that  immortality, 
may  be.  What,  we  ask,  shall  be  immortal?  The 
ravages  in  the  possessions  and  comforts  of  our  mor 
tal  condition  are  very  plain,  much  more  plain  than 
the  precise  compensations  in  the  future  state  by 
which  we  may  be  made  whole.  To  the  dweller  on 
this  material  sphere  soon  begins  the  miserable  story 
of  a  bereaved  and  disappointed  life.  We  hardly 
enter  upon  the  riches  of  our  estate,  or  receive  the 
heritage  of  our  birthright,  before,  in  the  flood  of 
time  and  the  robberies  of  change,  we  suffer  dimi 
nution  and  loss.  Those  of  us  over  whom  have 
passed  many  years  see  vacancy  and  desolation 
in  the  scene  of  their  life  all  around.  A  casual 
glance  in  our  own  dwelling  or  in  the  house  of  God 
misses  some  familiar  presence,  whose  place  a  mour 
ner  fills. 


316  THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF 

There  is,  no  doubt,  moral  instruction  intended 
through  the  whole  extent  of  this  earthly  alteration. 
Wise  reflections  on  our  frailty,  wholesome  regrets  for 
short-coming,  and  humble  prayers  for  God's  mercy, 
are  thus  mixed  with  our  habitual  feelings  and  with 
all  the  quivering  ties  of  our  blood.  Worldly  strifes 
look  poor  and  fade  away  before  the  composing 
struggles  of  death.  Throes  of  sickness  and  out 
ward  dissolution  distil  a  healing  bairn  into  the 
internal  wounds  of  this  divided,  often  jarring  world ; 
and  we  pardon  and  love  one  another  in  the  retro 
spect  of  all  that  we  have  beheld  and  endured. 

But  the  heart  asks  for  something  more  than  this 
present  moral  effect  to  satisfy  its  yearnings.  It 
craves  to  know  where  and  how  live  those  vanished 
and  departed.  Often  they  come  back  in  vision, 
and  make  us  sigh  for  some  discernment  of  the 
manner  of  their  being.  We  question  not  their  exist 
ence  or  blessedness,  but  their  perceptible  character, 
identity,  and  form. 

Clear  and  prominent  their  figures  appear  to  us 
in  the  past.  Through  the  perspicuous  vistas  of 
experience  we  see  them  wasting  away  under  shocks 
of  disease,  though  with  eyes  bright  from  the  hidden 
flame  of  cheerful  trust  and  undying  hope.  We 
hear  their  expressions  of  good-will,  which,  falling 
from  faint  lips,  sink  deeper  into  the  soul  than  any 
loud  and  strong  declarations  of  regard.  How  to 
our  thought  they  come  back !  Patriarchs,  with  their 
remembered  countenances  more  admirable  than  in 


IMMORTALITY.  317 

any  portraits  of  art,  and  their  voices  that  sound  on 
the  inward  ear,  making  us  deaf  to  all  noises  of 
earthly  communication  ;  brethren  in  years  and 
sympathy,  that  shared  our  labors ;  sisters,  that  re 
fined  our  nature,  and  made  it  gentle  ;  youth  of  our 
affections,  in  whom  the  worn  and  aged  world  be 
came  to  us  young  again,  and  all  our  hopes  of 
humanity  took  body  and  grew  afresh ;  these  shapes 
crowd  upon  us.  But  they  come  back  as  they  were, 
not  as  we  can  see  they  are.  That  is  all  vague. 

Oh,  very  manifest  are  the  colors  and  proportions 
of  what  is  for  ever  gone !  treasures  richer  than  gold 
cast  away  in  the  wrecks  of  nature,  and  delights 
purer  than  those  of  sense  withdrawn  beneath  the  cur 
tains  of  sickness  and  into  the  shadows  of  the  grave  ; 
loving  parentage,  interrupted  in  its  counsels,  and 
ending  all  its  precious  cares;  spotless  childhood, 
fading  from  its  promise,  moaning  on  its  couch  in 
pain,  but  not  in  fear ;  for  no  king  of  terrors  enters 
its  chamber,  no  phantom  of  doubt  stoops  over  its 
cradle,  and  no  angel  of  judgment  beckons  it  to  its 
doom  ;  yet  the  death  that  releases  bears  it  into  the 
heavens  which  we  cannot  fathom,  and,  while  intro 
ducing  it  to  unknown  exercises  and  satisfactions, 
ministers  woe  to  us,  the  elders  that  survive.  How 
the  various,  mingling  figures  throng  into  our  review, 
and  bring  in  their  train  all  with  which  they  were 
once  surrounded  and  accompanied!  cordial  saluta 
tions  by  the  way-side  and  at  the  doors  of  hospitable 
mansions,  momentary  as  a  passing  tone,  yet  solid 
27* 


318  THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF 

and  imperishable  to  the  recollection  of  the  soul ; 
bedsides  where  we  went  to  give  comfort,  and 
received  more  than  we  gave ;  and  many  a  path  re 
opening  only  to  show  where  every  sublunary  ex 
pectation  terminates. 

To  our  long  and  steady  gaze  there  unfold  once 
more,  scenes  of  bitter  anguish,  with  woful  conver 
sions  of  healthful,  animated  frames,  that  were  mar 
vellous  instruments  of  more  amazing  powers,  to 
senseless  clay.  There  return  bands  of  mourners  with 
streaming  tears,  making  him,  whose  office  was  con 
solation,  himself  to  weep.  There  beat  again  hearts 
that  ached  in  the  midst  of  domestic  desolation,  and 
were  environed  only  with  memorials  of  blight,  priva 
tion,  and  decay.  Restored,  too,  are  all  the  old  associa 
tions  of  the  closing  days ;  no  gay  and  festive  furni 
ture  of  lighted  rooms  and  dancing  and  music  and 
the  merry  troop,  but  rather  closed  windows,  dark 
ened  chambers,  the  coffin  and  the  hearse ;  weeds 
and  badges,  with  their  dark  hue,  against  the  ghastly 
marble  of  the  sepulchre,  to  whose  gloom  the  archi 
tecture  of  Egypt  or  Italy  is  the  same;  one  com 
pany  after  another  meeting,  one  procession  after 
another  forming,  for  the  last  sad  tribute  to  creatures 
whose  breath  is  in  their  nostrils,  and,  alas !  how 
soon  for  ever  expires  ! 

Now,  here  is  the  misery  referred  to ;  that  not  so 
distinct,  oh !  far  less  defined,  is  their  other  lot.  This 
is  our  trial  and  grief.  Amid  such  vivid  remembran 
ces  of  what  in  the  former  days  was  so  dear,  with 


IMMORTALITY.  319 

this  sad  revival  of  the  exact  circumstances  under 
which,  in  alternate  joy  or  pain,  the  images  of  those 
we  once  sojourned  with  have  been  stamped  on  our 
mind,  we  want,  for  a  sufficing  support,  something 
more  than  a  general  notion  of  their  survival  of  the 
body  which  they  have  dropped.  We  are  not  con 
tent  with  beholding  them  in  an  indefinite  superio 
rity,  or  hunting  after  them  through  a  blank  futurity. 
We  would  understand  how  they  are  clothed  upon 
in  that  upper  land,  and  move  through  that  onward 
course.  What  once  we  clung  to  wre  would  have  in 
restitution,  as  substantial  and  characteristic  as  the 
reality  that  was  taken  away. 

Now,  my  friends,  inaccessible  as  are  the  details 
of  the  spiritual  life,  the  declaration  in  the  text  meets 
this  demand  and  requisition  of  the  heart ;  for  it  an 
nounces  no  mere  continuance  of  human  life  :  it  does 
not  say  only,  in  large  terms,  that  the  vital  spark  is 
unquenched ;  but  that  "  this  mortal "  —  this  feeble, 
withering,  vanishing  mortal  —  "must  put  on  im 
mortality."  Here  is  the  satisfaction  we  seek,  in 
the  precisely  Christian  doctrine  of  immortality, — 
not  an  immortality  of  the  human  soul  alone  in 
its  general  character,  of  the  soul  of  the  race ;  not  a 
re-absorption  of  the  spirit  of  man  into  its  source, 
but  the  continued  existence  in  each  real  feature 
of  the  individual  being.  "  This  mortal  must  put 
on  immortality."  Our  personality  is  not  touched, 
our  identity  cannot  be  destroyed  or  confused,  by 
death. 


320  THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF 

"  Shall  we  recognize  one  another  in  the  future 
state  ?  "  is  a  question  often  asked.  It  is  strange 
that,  on  this  question,  Christian  believers  can  either 
doubt  or  differ ;  it  being  the  very  peculiarity  of  our 
religion  that  it  declares  no  vague  extrication  of  a 
common  nature  from  the  crumbling  tenement,  but 
the  transfer  of  each  mind  in  its  particularity,  with  all 
the  distinguishing  marks  of  its  own  character  upon 
it;  nothing  obliterated  or  lost,  but  every  thing  de 
veloped  into  greater  clearness  and  force;  so  that 
we  shall  recognize  each  other  more  deeply  and 
strongly  than  we  do  here.  The  veil  will  be  taken 
off,  and  the  wealth  disclosed  of  affection  and  devo 
tion,  which  we  in  vain  essayed  to  fathom,  oft  hidden 
as  it  was  from  the  nearest  friends.  We  shall  not 
only  know  each  other,  but  there  truly  know  each 
other  for  the  first  time. 

This,  again,  is  the  true  doctrine  and  meaning  in 
that  special  article  of  the  Christian  faith,  the  Resur 
rection  :  not  that  this  same  flesh,  we  wear  now, 
shall  robe  us  again,  but  that  the  deathless  part  shall 
take  with  it  out  of  the  world  those  actual  accus 
tomed  traits  on  which  acquaintance  may  seize ; 
and  that  no  fatal  charm  of  destruction,  no  strength 
of  transformation,  no  ruin  of  dust  and  ashes,  can 
confound  or  overlay  the  habitual  lines  by  which 
we  have  been  used  to  discriminate  our  fellow-crea 
tures,  or  rob  from  our  sight  and  possession  those 
chosen  and  singular  points  on  which  our  love  and 
reverence  have  fixed.  This  is  Christian  immor- 


IMMORTALITY.  321 

tality :  the  soul  emerging  from  damp,  dark  clods  of 
the  valley,  to  strengthen,  heighten,  unfold  in  its 
stature ;  yet,  in  becoming  angelic,  not  part  with 
its  own  human  and  cherished  qualities,  but  be 
better  understood  and  more  cordially  embraced; 
for  "  this  mortal  must  put  on  immortality." 

The  tears  of  your  grief  shall  not  bear  off  on  their 
stream  the  reality  which  you  have  loved  and  en 
shrined  in  your  bosom,  but  only  wash  the  bitterness 
clean  out  of  your  breast,  while  they  purge  your 
eyes  to  behold  the  human  become  angelic,  and  the 
earthly  heavenly;  for  the  tears,  that  are  pure  of 
selfishness,  are  aids  to  the  soul's  vision,  and,  falling 
in  love  and  trust,  are  answered  by  God  as  ascend 
ing  prayers.  The  upturning  of  one  sod,  altering 
the  whole  globe  to  your  look,  shall  not  prove  to 
have  been  lifted  to  hide  aught  that  you  value ;  but, 
in  the  new  view  of  your  mind,  to  disclose  it  beyond 
all  material  dissolving,  worldly  change,  or  temporal 
accident,  a  secure  and  permanent  possession. 

What  the  mere  senses  recognize  must  indeed  for 
ever  sink  in  the  irrecoverable  waste  of  things,  stretch 
ing  from  rise  to  set  of  day.  What  disease  can 
wrestle  with,  and  pain  disfigure,  and  decay  trans 
mute,  and  this  material  dissolving  remove,  must  be 
for  ever  given  up  from  our  grasp.  Therefore,  let 
not  our  fondness  rest  on  what  is  purely  outward 
and  material.  That  is  the  property  of  death,  has 
his  mark  on  it  as  spoil  for  his  abode,  —  a  mighty 
heap  of  beauty  and  decoration,  of  art  and  allure- 


322  THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF 

ment,  of  bodily  grace  and  favor,  of  gold  and  silver 
and  precious  stones,  silken  and  shining  vesture, 
with  every  thing  of  cost  and  savor,  —  "  meats  for 
the  body  and  the  body  for  meats ;  but  God  shall 
destroy  both  it  and  them." 

But,  exceeding  all,  and  alone  in  true  excellence 
and  glory,  rise  the  things  that  are  indestructible. 
Believing  in  general  the  immortality  of  man,  do  we 
inquire,  as  well  we  may,  what  in  man  shall  be 
immortal?  In  the  light  of  this  evangelical  and 
rational  idea  is  the  answer,  —  all  that  is  true,  ge 
nuine,  and  characteristic,  God  shall  gather  out  of 
the  broken  vessel  and  fallen  shrine  of  mortality  for 
his  worship.  The  goodness,  the  moral  worth,  the 
spiritual  loveliness,  which  you  have  revered  and 
been  kindled  by,  shall  not  perish ;  but,  in  its  exact 
shade  and  original  meaning,  be  preserved,  so  that 
you  can  ascertain  it  again,  as  you  do  one  counte 
nance  among  many,  or  any  peculiar  place  in  the 
landscape  dear  to  you  from  your  infancy.  For  it  is 
"the  mortal,"  —  not  any  dubious,  changeable  thing, 
but  that  you  have  had  communion  and  fellowship 
with  already,  —  wThich  shall  "  put  on  immortality." 
That  expression  of  unutterable  love  shall  not  cease 
and  be  gone.  The  mortal  aspect  that  bore  it  shall 
fade  away;  but  the  spiritual  beaming  expression, 
in  what  shape  we  know  not,  shall  come  back.  That 
smile  of  melting  benignity,  which  fell  and  flitted, 
yet  warmed  us  more  than  the  sun,  and  made  all 
that  had  been  cold  in  us  to  fly  and  vanish ;  the  lips 


IMMORTALITY.  323 

on  which  it  rested  have  long  been  without  sense  or 
motion ;  but  the  smile,  with  its  own  eternal  quality, 
is  and  will  be  ours  in  heaven ;  for  this  "  mortal 
shall  put  on  immortality."  Those  glances  of  regard 
which  rested  on  us,  and,  though  the  givers  knew  it 
not,  so  inspired  us  for  every  hard  duty  of  patience 
and  self-sacrifice !  —  I  know  not  by  what  means  or 
"  most  miraculous  organ "  the  angels  may  see,  — 
but  the  same  rays,  only  hallowed  and  glowing,  shall 
gleam  again  to  pour  happiness  and  inflame  holy 
desire ;  for  "  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality." 
And  oh !  those  tones,  nearest  revelations  of  all  that 
transpires  within  this  tabernacle  of  clay,  though 
never  more  they  shall  be  vocal  in  mortal  breath, 
and  never  more  the  tongues  they  dwelt  on  move 
to  utterance  in  this  lower  atmosphere;  yet  shall 
they  make  the  air  in  that  seat  of  our  translation 
vibrate  with  celestial  music ;  for  "  the  mortal  shall 
put  on  immortality."  Yes,  all  that  is  pure  and  kind, 
all  that  is  right  and  religious,  all  that  is  sympathiz 
ing  and  generous,  all  that  has  been  profoundly 
interesting  and  has  stirred  us,  shall  be  immortal. 
Death  is  sent  forth  the  servant  of  God  for  the  gleaner 
of  this  treasure,  the  transplanter  of  these  flowers,  the 
reaper  of  this  wheat  from  the  tares  of  sin  and  vice 
and  folly  that  are  to  be  burned.  But  nothing  of 
the  riches  of  his  mining,  the  blossoms  of  his  gather 
ing,  the  sheaves  in  his  hand,  shall  be  dropped  or  lost. 
From  the  glories  and  sublimities  of  martyr-virtue, 
that  have  crowned  this  earth  like  its  mountains,  and 


324  THE    CHRISTIAN    DEFINITION    OF 

flowed  through  it  like  its  streams,  to  the  sweet 
modesty  and  flowering  lowliness  of  life ;  from  toils 
of  faithfulness  and  agonies  to  enter  the  strait  gate, 
down  to  the  ingenuousness  of  youth  and  the  prattle 
of  a  babe's  innocence,  nothing  holy  or  spotless  shall, 
by  the  Eye  that  searches  all,  be  overlooked;  for 
the  "  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality."  So,  then, 
not  for  ourselves  only,  but  for  one  another,  do  we, 
ill  every  true  word  and  act,  "lay  up  treasure  in 
heaven ; "  and  the  motive  of  benevolence,  of  love 
to  our  kindred  and  philanthropy  for  our  kind,  is 
added  to  the  motives  of  serving  God  and  saving  our 
own  souls,  for  our  fidelity.  Shall  such  motives 
combine  to  urge  us  in  vain  ? 

Truly  would  it  gratify  the  heart's  wish  thus  to 
leave  the  announcement  in  our  text,  as  a  doctrine 
purely  of  consolation,  did  not  truth  require  it  to  be 
urged  as  admonition  also  ;  implying,  as  it  does,  not 
only  that  our  virtues,  but  our  sins  too,  shall  survive 
this  cradle  and  tabernacle  of  the  flesh,  in  which 
they  have  been  nurtured.  These  sins  are  contrary 
to  us,  injurious  to  our  nature.  In  proportion  to 
our  allowance  of  them,  they  rot  or  consume  that 
nature,  reducing  the  force  and  size  of  our  being 
towards  the  abyss  and  dead  ruin  of  the  grave. 
But  they  themselves  live  and  thrive  on  our  weak 
ening  and  decline.  They  cannot,  like  our  clothing 
to-night  when  we  go  to  our  slumber,  be  slipped  off 
with  the  flesh  in  the  darkness  of  the  tomb  ;  for 
"  this  mortal,"  this  very  creature,  as  he  is,  with  all 


IMMORTALITY.  325 

his  conscious  desires  and  real  purposes,  "  shall  put 
on  immortality."  The  fancy  that  we  are  to  be 
washed  clean  of  all  our  pollutions,  just  in  crossing 
the  narrow  stream  of  death  ;  or  that  every  unfit  and 
unhallowed  feeling  is  to  be  extracted  from  our 
enduring  part,  with  the  separation  of  the  material 
husk,  leaving  us  to  be  born  pure,  in  a  sort  of  second 
infancy  of  soul,  into  the  higher  sphere,  —  has  no 
single  ground,  in  reason  or  scripture,  on  which  to 
rest.  As,  what  water  cannot  cleanse,  fire  must 
touch ;  so,  what  time  cannot  overcome,  eternity 
must  deal  with.  It  would  be  doing  both  violence 
to  God's  word,  and  disrespect  to  the  prophetic  con 
science,  not  to  own  that  some  sorer  discipline  must 
seize,  some  deeper  purification  be  reserved  for,  those 
passing  out  of  this  world  impenitent  and  incorrigi 
ble  transgressors. 

The  question,  then,  brethren,  is,  —  What  shall 
we  resolve,  or  consent  to  make  part  of  us,  and 
so  carry  with  us  when  we  go  ?  From  the  solemn 
oracles  we  learn  that  we  brought  nothing  into 
this  world ;  and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  no 
thing  out.  Nothing  of  external  delight  or  cost 
liness  can  we  transport  with  us  over  the  valley 
which  we  must  cross.  But  the  inward  possessions 
and  accumulations  of  the  mind  and  memory,  the 
propensities  we  have  indulged,  the  dispositions  we 
have  acquired,  the  plans  and  designs  we  have 
formed  and  lived  by,  we  shall  take  along  in  our 
journey ;  for  "  this  mortal,"  this  very  man,  this 
28 


326  CHRISTIAN    IMMORTALITY. 

actual  spirit  that  we  are,  "  must  put  on  immorta 
lity."  If  we  have  harbored  and  nursed  within  us, 
not  good  tendencies  and  aspirations,  but  evil  appe 
tites  and  passions,  then  they  must  be  our  compa 
nions.  They  must  attend  us  for  our  punishers,  and 
the  avengers  of  our  guilt;  nor  need  there  be  any 
others.  If  we  have  been  thoughtless  and  unprofita 
ble  servants  here,  so  we  shall  appear  there.  The 
moth  of  our  neglect  will  still  eat  in  our  garments  ; 
the  serpent  of  envy  or  hatred  bite  in  our  hearts ; 
the  demon  of  avarice  possess  our  soul,  though  the 
treasure  be  wrenched  from  us  as  we  go ;  the  fire  of 
unholy  lust  shall  burn  in  our  bosom,  or  the  weight 
of  sloth  hang  on  our  limbs ;  every  old  expression 
of  iniquity  be  stamped  in  the  shameful  lines  of  our 
faces,  and  whatever  members  and  faculties  we  may 
have,  be  the  prey  of  that  to  which  we  have  yielded 
them :  for  "  this  mortal  must  put  on  immortality." 
What  now  in  us  shall  be  that  mortal  which  shall 
put  on  immortality  is  indeed,  of  all  others,  the  one 
interrogation. 


327 


DISCOURSE   XXIV. 


THE    CHRISTIAN   CONDITION   OF   SATISFACTION. 

Matt.   V.    6.  —  BLESSED    ARE    THEY  WHICH    DO    HUNGER   AND   THIRST 
AFTER  RIGHTEOUSNESS  ;    FOR  THEY   SHALL   BE   FILLED. 

IT  may  seem  paradoxical  to  declare  the  blessedness 
of  feelings  so  uncomfortable  as  hunger  and  thirst. 
But  the  benediction  regards  the  efforts  hunger 
and  thirst  occasion,  and  the  consequences  to  which 
they  lead.  Hunger  and  thirst  are  here  only  in 
stances  of  the  general  analogy  between  bodily  and 
spiritual  wants.  As  a  famished  man  wants  food, 
as  parched  lips  long  for  a  draught  of  water,  and  the 
food  and  water  are  then  likely  to  be  found,  so  the 
way  to  be  righteous  is  to  want  to  be  righteous. 

There  is  great  force  in  the  illustration.  Want 
has  been  the  great  educator  of  the  world.  The 
history  of  man  is  hardly  more  than  the  history  of 
man's  wanting  something,  and  then  quite  surely 
getting  what  he  wants.  For  honest,  urgent  want 
is  very  persevering  and  ingenious.  It  rarely  gives 
up  without  attaining  what  it  desires.  It  has  been 
the  encourager  of  all  the  labor,  and  producer  of  all 
the  wealth,  in  the  world ;  the  provider  of  comfort, 


328  THE    CHRISTIAN    CONDITION    OF 

the  prompter  to  discovery,  the  originator  of  arts, 
universal  builder  and  weaver  and  projector  ;  in 
short,  the  civilizer  of  the  race,  —  laying  the  earth 
under  contribution  to  please  the  eye  and  ear,  and, 
from  the  four  quarters  of  land  and  sea,  raising  levies 
for  the  least  of  our  senses,  the  slightest  caprices. 
Such  and  so  mighty  is  human  want. 

Oh !  now,  if  we  only  wanted  to  be  righteous ;  if 
the  sentiments  of  the  soul  could  only  compete  with 
the  nerves  of  the  body ;  if  we  could  be  all  as  eager 
for  moral  excellence  as  for  the  perfection  of  a  ma 
chine  ;  and  as  anxious  for  a  remedy  of  sin,  for  the 
cure  of  our  pride  and  vanity,  as  of  fever  and  plague  ; 
if  we  had  the  ambition  for  character  that  we  have 
for  fortune  and  a  name,  or  if  the  idea  of  the  illu 
mination  of  purity  and  the  warmth  of  true  religion 
could  take  hold  of  curiosity,  and  stir  desire  like  a 
new  light  and  heat  in  our  dwellings  ;  what  progress 
would  be  witnessed  in  many  now  laggard  on  the 
path  of  duty ! 

A  savage  in  the  Southern  Islands  sees  a  new 
object,  offered  by  some  travelling  trader.  It  may 
be  nothing  but  a  robe  or  necklace  of  beads ;  but  it 
appeals  to  a  want  in  him.  He  must,  at  any  price, 
have  what  he  sees,  to  adorn  his  person,  and  give  him 
splendor  and  superiority  among  his  tribe.  Could 
a  bright  display  of  moral  worth  but  so  excite  us, 
till  we  felt  we  wanted  it,  and  could  not  do  without 
it,  but  must,  at  any  expense  of  toil  and  self-denial, 
transfer  to  ourselves  the  beauty  of  patience,  disin- 


SATISFACTION.  329 

terestedness,  and  generosity,  then  indeed  how  soon 
should  we  have  that  decoration  in  Scripture  called 
a  finer  apparel  than  "  gold  or  pearls  or  costly 
array  " ! 

Here  is  the  explanation  of  what  has  so  often 
been  made  a  ground  of  surprise,  why,  with  such 
revelations  of  truth,  sublime  commands,  and  shining 
patterns  of  goodness,  men  are  no  better,  but  so 
content  in  mediocrity  or  vice.  They  do  not  want 
to  be  any  better.  They  want  property,  and  they 
get  it.  They  want  better  instruments  and  utensils, 
and  they  devise  and  make  them,  performing  mira 
cles  of  ingenuity.  They  want  to  have  their  houses 
furnished ;  and  who  so  poor  as  not  to  have  some 
thing  to  gratify  the  taste,  as  well  as  meet  all  his 
purposes  of  convenience,  and  often  of  luxury  ?  In 
every  thing  else,  lean,  haggard  want  works,  goes 
forward,  and  succeeds,  till  at  length  it  leaps  on  a 
throne  in  the  shape  of  universal  abundance,  crowned 
monarch  of  the  earth,  lord  of  an  inexhaustible  trea 
sury. 

But  men  do  not  want  to  be  holy  and  religious. 
They  do  not  want  to  be  meek  and  humble.  They 
do  not  want  to  be  benevolent  and  charitable. 
They  would  be  so,  they  would  possess  these  noble 
qualities,  if  they  wanted  them,  as  surely  as  they 
contrive  the  mechanical  enginery  and  tools  they 
require.  "  Necessity "  would  no  more  be  "  the  mo 
ther  of  invention"  in  material  things,  than  a  felt 
moral  necessity  would  more  grandly  supply  all  the 
28* 


330  THE    CHRISTIAN    CONDITION    OF 

finer  traits,  better  food,  and  more  precious  furniture 
of  the  soul. 

This,  too,  accounts  not  only  for  the  small  amount, 
but  the  low  style,  in  general,  of  our  morality ;  for 
the  hardness,  slowness,  and  unloveliness  of  our  very 
virtue.  Qualities  naturally  the  sweetest  and  most 
generous,  beneficence  and  forbearance,  which  should 
"  drop  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven,"  seem  too 
often  with  us  but  enforced  actions,  to  which  our 
nature  yields,  as  tough  wood  does  to  a  wedge  or  a 
screw,  or  as  the  hand  opens  to  an  extortioner's 
tax.  Some  appear  to  feel  actually  wronged  by 
being  called  to  those  exercises  of  religion  and  cha 
rity,  which,  if  they  had  the  hunger  and  thirst  Christ 
Bpeaks  of,  they  would  thankfully  lay  hold  of  as  their 
sustenance,  and  feed  on  as  the  bread  of  life  that 
came  down  from  heaven.  He  would  be  thought  a 
strange  man,  who,  after  long  fasting  or  a  scanty 
allowance  on  a  voyage,  should  refuse  offered  nour 
ishment,  and  thrust  away  the  cup  of  refreshment. 
But  how  can  a  spiritual  being  support  nature  with 
out  righteousness  ?  —  how  properly  exist,  without 
truth  and  worship,  justice  and  charity,  for  the 
necessaries  of  Jife  ?  Jesus,  when  he  had  gone  long 
without  the  grapes  of  Judea,  or  even  rubbing  the 
«ars  of  corn  in  his  hands,  declared  that  doing 
God's  will  and  finishing  his  work  were  his  meat 
and  drink.  Ah !  if  we  knew  our  wants,  the  ration  of 
the  day  for  the  body  would  be  to  us  no  more  need 
ful  than  the  doing  of  some  righteous  deeds.  We 


SATISFACTION. 


331 


should  at  nightfall  be  empty  and  pining,  if  we  had 
not  spoken  some  helpful  words.  We  could  not 
rest  in  our  bed,  without  having  exercised  sympa 
thetic  dispositions,  and  rendered  to  God  his  due 
in  our  prayers.  We  should  not  take  credit  for  these 
things,  but  thankfully  live  upon  them  ;  nor  could  it 
seem  less  than  absurdity  and  insanity  to  want  to 
have  any  thing  in  the  world,  and  be  careless  of  our 
character's  thrift  and  growth. 

Do  we  not  touch  here  the  real  point  of  our  weak 
ness  ?  Is  there  not  with  us  a  lack  or  unconscious 
ness  of  this  divine  hunger  and  thirst  ?  Are  we  not 
constrained  to  note  a  deficiency  among  us,  call  it 
what  you  will,  of  moral  enthusiasm,  of  love  for 
goodness,  of  a  passionate  longing  for  virtue,  of  a 
kindling  zeal  for  religion  ?  Therefore  is  it  that  we 
understand  no  more  what  Christ  meant  by  eating 
his  flesh  and  drinking  his  blood,  because  we  have 
not  the  "hunger  and  thirst  for  righteousness"  on 
which  he  pronounced  his  benediction  ;  and  which 
would  make  his  life  and  death  our  nourishment  and 
stimulus,  the  vital  spirit  in  us  of  devotion  and  self- 
sacrifice. 

The  hard,  cold,  strained,  unwilling,  outward  type 
of  many  a  nominally  Christian  man's  morality  is  the 
saddest  and  most  hopeless  symptom  of  the  times, 
and  a  severer  criticism  on  the  church  than  any  of  her 
enemies  bring.  While  we  judge  that  we  have  the 
best  understanding  of  Christianity,  and  the  most 
perfect  form  of  religion  ;  —  out  of  the  midst  even  of 


332  THE    CHRISTIAN    CONDITION    OF 

old  Romish  errors  and  corruptions,  stand  forth  sis 
ters  of  charity,  brethren  of  mercy,  professors  of 
poverty,  mendicants,  not  for  themselves  but  for  the 
gospel,  seeming  to  rise  from  tropical  and  arctic 
graves,  dug  in  the  sand  or  the  snow  where  they 
fell,  overspent  with  their  burning  loyalty  to  their 
Master ;  and  dreadfully  to  rebuke  that  part  at  least 
of  our  easy  and  prosperous  Protestantism,  which 
pretends,  and  is  with  all  facility  admitted,  to  com 
mune  with  the  Lord,  but  is  in  bondage  to  the 
world ;  talks  of  salvation,  but  is  intent  on  saving 
that  which  perishes ;  and  compasses  what  progress 
it  makes  like  one  that  tugs  at  the  oar  of  the  galley, 
facing  one  way  and  moving  another,  glad  to  stop 
and  rest  from  the  slow  advance  and  reluctant 
task-work ;  instead  of  cherishing  those  good  affec 
tions,  like  the  breezes  before  which  the  boat  joyfully 
speeds  to  her  port. 

I  am  not  blind  to  the  real  Christianity  that  exists, 
but  own  it  and  thank  God  for  it.  But  do  we  not 
all  ask,  "  What  shall  we  do  with  this  lifeless,  decent 
appearance  of  religion,  this  show  of  godliness,  to 
which  Christ  is  not '  the  living  bread  ; '  but,  in  the 
prophet's  words,  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground,  having 
no  form  or  comeliness  or  beauty  that  we  should 
desire  him  ?  "  Verily  we  must  look  for  help  in  such 
a  case  up  from  human  power  to  the  chastening  pro 
vidence  of  God,  to  make  us  aware  of  the  wants  to 
which,  in  our  enjoyment  and  ease,  we  can  be  so 
blind  and  insensible.  That  providence  is  often  con- 


SATISFACTION.  333 

sidered  as  but  a  dark  mystery,  inscrutable  and 
oppressive.  Some  minds  have  even  been  almost 
overborne  by  the  spectacles  of  pain  and  sorrow,  by 
the  thought  of  how  much  there  is  to  be  suffered  in 
this  world.  The  miseries  of  life  to  them  rise  as 
a  great  cloud  before  the  Father's  face,  and  groans 
of  anguish  and-  death  almost  drown  the  Father's 
voice  of  mercy.  How  different  the  aspect  of  things 
in  the  light  of  religion !  Have  you  never  noticed 
the  drying  up  of  springs  in  the  uplands  of  the  pas 
ture  send  every  creature  to  some  deeper  well  ?  So, 
how  often  has  the  failure  of  common  worldly 
sources  of  comfort  driven  the  soul  to  the  living 
Fountain,  and  the  wintry  waste  of  an  afflicted  ex 
istence  turned  it  to  the  heavenly  garner ! 

It  may  not  be  improper  for  me  to  say  this.  The 
minister  of  religion,  if  you  will  allow  the  profes 
sional  reference,  walks  not  in  sunny  places,  but 
continually  among  shadows,  with  grief  and  disease 
for  his  companions,  dissolving  nature  ever  near 
him,  and  hardly,  at  any  time,  able  to  keep  his  foot 
clear  from  the  brink  of  the  grave.  Not  gay  and 
festive  places  on  the  line  of  time  make  the  vista  of 
his  recollection ;  but  through  sick  chambers  he 
treads,  through  rooms  solemn  with  the  hush  of 
sympathy,  and  reverend  as  temples  to  the  soul 
with  the  consecration  of  the  coffined  clay ;  where 
no  tables  of  abundance  are  spread,  but  spiritual 
wants  take  their  nutriment.  With  those  that 
bear  their  own  flesh  and  blood,  he  stands  at  the 


334  THE    CHRISTIAN    CONDITION    OF 

mouth  of  the  dreamy  tomb,  and  feels  the  damp 
from  its  gloomy  space. 

Wherefore  does  not  this  experience  of  all  that  is 
destructive  to  mortal  strength,  and  desolating  to 
earthly  joy  and  hope,  sink  him  into  a  saddened  or 
discouraged  man  ?  Because,  through  the  wither 
ing  of  mortal  pleasure  and  expectation,  he  sees  the 
wakening  of  the  sacred  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness.  Through  the  pining  and  faded 
brow  and  cheek,  and  the  failing  of  mortal  desire, 
he  sees  greater  beauty  of  aspiration  shine  from 
within  than  ever  hung  upon  health's  freshness  and 
fulness.  In  faint  and  dying  tones,  he  hears  a 
more  inspiring  eloquence  of  the  soul  panting  for 
God  than  from  the  loudest  accents.  Holy  wants, 
seeking  and  finding  their  blessed  gratification, 
reveal  a  glory,  to  which  all  success  of  gain  and 
reputation  look  inferior  and  poor.  The  darkest 
scenes  have  often  the  most  cheerful  irradiation  ;  as 
the  clouds  catch,  and  hold  in  their  fleecy  folds,  the 
volatile  light  that  would  else  escape.  As  there 
have  been  those  who  groped  in  graveyards  for 
treasure  hidden  there,  so  many  have  been  eternally 
enriched  from  the  sepulchre.  Though  it  is  said 
the  barren  sands  have  commonly  been  set  aside  for 
our  burial-ground,  richer  harvests  have  been  reaped 
from  them,  for  the  food  of  what  is  best  in  our 
nature,  than  ever  flourished  in  fertile  plain  or 
watered  valley.  The  melting  edge  of  Alpine  snows 
nurtures  flowers  more  delicately  beautiful  than 


SATISFACTION.  335 

grow  in  a  rank  soil  or  cultivated  garden.  So  is  it 
in  the  fall  of  human  life,  where  dust  goes  to  dust, 
and  ashes  to  ashes,  from  whence  we  pluck  the  only 
amaranthine  flower  of  virtue,  to  wear  for  ever. 
The  afflictive  Providence  of  God !  and  we  vindi 
cating  it !  It  vindicates  itself  in  its  effects,  both 
to  quicken  and  satisfy  the  spiritual  appetite  of 
man.  It  makes  us  break  out  into  the  poet's  song 
and  prayer, — 


"  Over  our  spirits  first 
Extend  thy  healing  reign  ; 
There  raise  and  quench  the  sacred  thirst 
That  never  pains  again." 


I  mean  not,  of  course,  that  trial  alone  will  pro 
duce  this  effect,  though  he  must  be  in  a  sad  con 
dition  in  whom  trial  does  not  produce  it.  But, 
however  produced,  this,  above  all,  we  need,  —  "  the 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness  ; "  to  feel  that 
we  want,  as  we  want  nothing  else,  to  be  pure,  vir 
tuous,  and  devoted  to  the  divine  will ;  to  be  moved, 
as  we  are  moved  by  nothing  else,  by  the  thought 
and  the  opportunity  of  gaining  ever-larger  degrees 
of  a  kind  and  lowly  temper ;  to  strive,  as  we  strive 
for  nothing  else,  for  a  just  and  merciful  frame  of 
mind,  and  to  run  in  the  race  God  in  his  gospel 
sets  before  us,  as  we  do  not  run  for  the  most  bril 
liant  prize  in  the  world. 

This  one  question,  and  a  very  plain  question 
to  every  man,  is  the  most   accurate  test  of  our 


336  CHRISTIAN    SATISFACTION. 

moral  state,  and  index  of  our  coming  destiny; 
What  do  we  want  ?  It  has  been  a  point  of  well- 
nigh  boundless  and  interminable  controversy,  Who 
will  go  to  heaven  ?  Many  are  the  sectarian  titles 
and  qualifications  insisted  on.  But  the  answer  is 
simply,  Every  one  who  wants  to  go !  —  all  who 
"  hunger  and  thirst "  for  the  heavenly  society,  and 
who  would  find  their  congenial  element  and  their 
perfect  delight  in  its  exalted  occupations.  The 
peculiarity  of  your  creed  will  not  carry  you  to 
heaven.  No,  nor  the  mere  custom  of  a  form ;  nor 
the  respectable  superficial  morality  current,  ac 
cepted  in  the  street  or  social  circle.  Do  you  want 
to  be  righteous  ?  Do  you  want  to  go  to  heaven  ? 
Do  you  love  and  long  for  holiness  and  goodness, 
and  for  the  company  of  the  holy  and  the  good  ? 
Does  wealth  or  honor  charm  and  dazzle  you  less 
than  the  heights  you  aspire  to  of  communion  with 
God  ?  Is  power  a  less  thing  to  you  than  upright 
ness  ?  Has  the  "  seen  and  temporal "  laid  no  spell 
on  you,  binding  like  that  of  the  "  unseen  and  eter 
nal  "  ?  Does  a  religious  conscience  in  you  suffer 
no  rivalry  from  interest,  and  give  no  way  to  excess  ? 
Then  shall  you  go  to  heaven  :  but  no  man  shall  go 
thither  without  the  want ;  no  man  through  the  bars 
set  up  by  his  own  low  desire,  or  over  the  bounds 
of  a  degraded  will. 


337 


DISCOURSE   XXV. 


CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN. 
Matt.  xix.  14.  —  OF  SUCH  is  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEA.VEK. 

THESE  are  often-quoted  words.  I  repeat  them, 
because,  familiar  as  they  are,  it  may  be  questioned 
if  their  force  is  commonly  perceived.  They  are 
often  considered  as  simply  asserting  the  innocence 
of  little  children.  That  innocence  they  incontro- 
vertibly  imply.  But  the  mere  notion  of  childish 
innocence  satisfies  neither  the  peculiar  strength  of 
the  phraseology,  nor  the  circumstances  in  which  it 
was  used.  This  language  is  also  frequently  recited 
as  expressing  the  happiness  of  departed  children  in 
another  world,  which  is  undoubtedly  a  just  inference 
from  this  declaration  of  our  Saviour,  and  from  every 
right  conception  of  God.  Yet  it  seems  not  to  be 
the  immediate  design  of  this  passage. 

To  understand  its  real  scope,  we  must  refer  to 
its  original  connection.  The  disciples  had  already 
understood  from  their  Master,  that  he  was  going  to 
set  up  a  kingdom  in  the  world.  In  this  enterprise 
they  had  embarked  with  him,  sacrificing  other  con 
nections  and  affairs,  and  staking  all  on  his  success* 
29 


338  CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 

But  they  very  imperfectly  understood  the  nature 
of  the  kingdom  he  proposed.  Although  he  had 
endeavored  in  all  his  instructions  to  inform  them 
of  his  intention,  they  had  not  the  spiritual  capacity, 
nor,  it  may  be,  the  willing  disposition,  to  apprehend 
it.  They  thought  the  kingdom  was  one  of  outward 
power,  of  conquest  and  triumph  over  other  na 
tions.  Rome  herself,  the  all-vanquishing,  universally 
spreading,  and  invincible,  was  to  bow  to  Judea.  The 
days  of  the  kings  were  to  be  restored  with  a  more 
royal  splendor  than  ever  graced  the  palmy  times 
of  David  and  Solomon.  He  that  should  wield  the 
sceptre  would,  of  course,  hold  in  special  favor  those 
by  whose  help  it  had  been  secured.  Some  of  them 
were  even  ambitious  already  of  being  preferred  to 
the  rest,  and  had  disputed  about  sitting  on  the 
right  and  left  hand  of  the  throne.  The  superhuman 
power,  which  Christ  so  freely  displayed,  was  a 
pledge  of  his  ability  to  accomplish  his  end ;  while 
they  were  growing  impatient  at  its  long  delay. 
And  now,  after  another  grand  exhibition  of  those 
omnipotent  gifts,  fit  to  usher  in  the  Redeemer's 
sway,  as  they  are  gathered  in  high  debate,  —  the 
disciples  next  him,  and  the  Pharisees  around,  —  a 
few  little  children  are  brought  to  him,  not  to  be  the 
subjects  of  his  supernatural  help,  but  that  he  should 
lay  his  hands  on  them  and  pray.  At  this  request 
the  disciples  are  instant  in  their  rebuke,  and  would 
dismiss  them  without  ceremony,  as  intruders,  with  a 
trivial  errand,  upon  great  concerns.  But  Jesus  called 


KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN.  339 

them  unto  him ;  the  voice  that  "  spake  as  never 
man  spake  "  prevailing  over  the  rude  rebuff  of  his 
ignorant  followers.  He  called  them,  and  said, 
"  Suffer  little  children,  and  forbid  them  not,  to  come 
unto  me ;  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Here  we  reach  the  explanation  of  my  text,  —  "  Of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  As  though  he 
would  say  to  his  misconceiving  friends,  "  My  king 
dom  is  not  one  which  it  requires  armed  force,  banded 
hosts  of  men,  to  establish.  Little  children  are  to  set 
it  up.  If  they  can  be  brought  to  back  my  efforts, 
my  throne  is  reared  in  all  the  earth.  You,  with 
your  heart  set  on  aggrandizement,  are  not  fit  to  help 
on  my  kingdom  to  its  seat  in  the  world !  No,  nor 
is  the  race  now  on  the  stage  qualified  largely  to 
promote  or  fully  to  receive  that  kingdom.  I  look 
to  the  next  generation  for  the  adherents  who  shall 
substantially  carry  forward  the  work.  Suffer  them 
to  come  unto  me,  instil  into  their  minds  my  doc 
trines,  cultivate  in  their  forming  hearts  my  affec 
tions,  and  they  shall  maintain  my  kingdom.  They 
shall  bear  it  on  their  young  shoulders,  grasp  it  with 
their  tender  hands,  and  move  it  forward  with  their 
fresh  strength  to  endless  advancement.  The  present 
risen  generation,  prepossessed  with  sin  and  prejudice 
as  it  is,  must  pass  away,  partially  influenced,  half 
regenerate.  But,  as  it  dies  off,  the  error  of  its  mind 
and  the  evil  of  its  heart,  too  deep  ingrained,  in  too 
firm  a  tincture,  to  be  wholly  removed  and  washed 
out,  bring  on  the  new  ranks  unstained  and  pure." 


340  CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 

As  though  Jesus  saw  how  one  generation  fashions 
another  after  its  own  image,  and  colors  it  with  its 
own  feeling,  he  says,  "  Suffer  them  to  come  unto 
me."  Keep  your  own  bad  customs  and  the  invete 
rate  iniquity  of  the  world  as  much  as  possible  out 
of  their  way.  Stand  up  on  the  wretched  heap  of 
your  own  mistakes ;  station  yourself  over  the  melan 
choly  ruins  left  by  your  sins ;  take  your  post  on  the 
decaying  embers  of  your  indulged  passions,  and, 
from  that  height  and  vantage-ground,  warn  the 
young  and  rising  generation. 

There  seems  indeed  to  be  meaning  and  power  in 
the  text.  It  is  not  the  old  sinners  whose  worldly 
judgments  and  views  can  be  a  sufficiently  pure 
fountain  from  which  to  nurse  and  rear  even  their 
own  offspring.  But  bring  them  to  the  living  water 
that  came  down  from  on  high ;  bring  them  to  the 
bread  of  life  in  the  Saviour's  teachings,  and  verily 
it  shall  be  proved  that  they  are  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven ;  and  through  them  that  kingdom  shall  come 
on  earth. 

The  sense  of  our  text,  as  thus  expounded,  brings 
out  an  important,  practical  discrimination  touching 
the  twofold  way  in  which  our  religion  works :  first, 
in  converting  men  from  sin ;  and,  secondly,  in  edu 
cating  children  to  holiness.  Christ  had  been  trying 
to  convert;  but,  perceiving  how  hard  the  task  of 
rooting  out  the  old  evil  growth,  his  mind  forcibly 
recurs  to  the  need  of  planting  at  first  hand  the  good 
seed.  So  he  falls  upon  the  sentiment,  that  little 


KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN.  341 

children  are  the  constituents  of  his  kingdom  and 
the  moral  hope  of  the  world.  There  is  a  sphere  for 
the  converting  energy  of  the  gospel  on  those  adult 
in  years  and  astray  from  God.  Conversion  is  their 
only  hope. 

But  still,  as  in  the  earliest  days  of  our  religion, 
how  is  Christ's  discernment  of  human  nature  and 
foresight  of  future  effects  vindicated,  as  we  see  the 
great  mass  of  the  grown-up  race  keeping  their  old 
tracks,  thronging  the  familiar  passages  of  bad  cus 
tom,  and  dying  as  they  have  lived!  How  rare 
indeed  are  conversions  after  middle  life!  Thus, 
like  Christ,  we  turn  to  little  children,  as  furnishing 
the  chief  material  for  his  reign  to  come. 

The  reign  to  come !  For  the  meaning  of  Christ's 
words  is  not  yet  fully  verified.  The  next  genera 
tion,  which  he  saw  visibly  before  him  represented 
in  those  few  little  children,  did  not  fulfil  it.  Nor 
did  the  next ;  but  each  successive  one  received  the 
truth  deeper,  and  bore  it  wider.  Thus  mainly,  not 
alone  by  bold  and  revolutionizing  energy,  but  by 
orderly  transmission  in  ever-widening  circles,  Chris 
tianity  gained  a  permanent  footing  in  the  earth, — 
every  new  race  being  but  one  step,  and  mankind 
leaving  at  every  step  something  of  its  error  and 
folly  and  sin  behind  it.  Even  when  the  world 
seemed  to  retrograde,  in  what  are  called  its  dark 
ages,  a  closer  observation  shows  it  was,  although 
slowly  or  unapparently,  still  moving  on.  Through 
the  fidelity  of  the  church,  and  of  every  individual 
29* 


342  CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 

believer,  the  holy  tradition,  the  apostolic  succession, 
ran. 

There  is  no  space  now  for  the  application  of  so 
fruitful  a  theme  at  every  point.  But  allow  me  to 
trace  it  for  a  moment  in  connection  with  some  of 
the  grosser  transgressions  which  have  weighed  down 
the  human  soul. 

Here  is  the  giant  evil  of  intemperance,  so  long 
and  widely  prevalent  that  it  seems  to  have  mingled 
alcohol  in  the  very  blood  of  the  human  family, — to 
have  steeped  the  human  heart  and  brain  in  liquid 
fire.  All  the  moral  power  of  society  has  been 
summoned,  and  put  to  its  highest  mettle  of  cou 
rage  and  vigilance,  to  battle  with  and  overcome  its 
sway,  and  bring  in  the  dominion  of  self-control. 
What  an  array  of  associations,  pledges,  speeches, 
essays,  votes,  wisdom  and  folly,  virtue  and  sin,  has 
been  mustered  to  the  conflict !  but  with  as  yet  par 
tial  success ;  so  that  the  question  is  still  raised  in 
peril,  and  sometimes  almost  in  despair,  —  How 
shall  Christ's  kingdom  of  sobriety  come  into  the 
human  mind  ?  The  answer  is  in  our  text.  Edu 
cate  your  children  to  sobriety  and  self-control.  Let 
the  rising  generation  be  your  temperance  society. 
Reclaim  the  sot  if  you  can.  Clothe  him,  and  bring 
him  to  his  right  mind ;  as  the  self-denying  vota 
ries  of  this  good  cause,  in  instances  not  a  few,  have, 
to  their  everlasting  honor,  done.  Still,  how  the 
craving  desire  runs  riot  in  his  veins,  gnaws  uneasily 
at  his  vitals,  and  sinks  into  the  marrow  of  his 


KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN.  343 

bones,  making  the  presence  of  his  old  enemy  more 
dangerous  to  him  than  the  cannon's  mouth !  while 
perhaps  there  is  no  safety  or  peace  till  that  inflamed 
and  corrupted  body  sinks  into  the  grave,  which  re 
ceives  the  large  proportion  of  those  who  have  ever 
been  inebriate,  with  something  of  their  vice  inse 
parably  cleaving  to  them.  Strive  to  convert  the 
drunkard.  Let  the  drunkard  himself  turn  with  the 
fear  of  God  before  his  eyes.  But,  still  more,  edu 
cate  the  young  to  temperance. 

Again,  here  is  this  ghastly  spectacle  of  the  green 
and  blooming  earth  torn  and  gashed  with  the  horrid 
hoof  of  war ;  which,  if  it  be  not  in  itself  always 
and  essentially  an  evil,  yet,  being  made  necessary 
by  other  evils,  is  an  awful  expression  of  human 
sin.  The  sword  may  sometimes  be  a  holy  instru 
ment,  sent  by  Christ,  —  the  sword  of  the  Lord 
put  into  a  servant  Gideon's  grasp ;  but  it  for  ever 
points  to  a  deep  and  vast  iniquity,  which  really 
produces  this  mournful  spectacle  of  the  earth  pol 
luted  with  the  red  stain  of  human  blood,  shed  by 
human  hands.  As  though  Death  were  not  devour 
ing  and  universal  enough !  As  though  his  step 
lagged,  and  needed  spurring  to  a  better  speed  !  As 
though  the  mortal  decree  were  not  the  prerogative 
of  the  Almighty !  And  so  men  and  brethren  must 
hurry  and  push  each  other  into  the  tomb,  —  the 
living  body,  that  has  a  few  uncertain  days  yet 
before  it,  passionately  flushed  with  triumph  over 
the  corpse  which  its  blow  has  made  cold  and  mo- 


344  CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 

tionless.  O  God!  how  often  has  this  scene  been 
enacted  on  that  footstool  of  thine,  which  thou 
didst  fashion  for  a  fraternal  home  to  all  thy  chil 
dren  ! 

But  this  has  been  the  way  of  the  world  for  how 
many  generations !  a  state  of  almost  constant  war, 
of  which  the  only  consolation  is,  that  war  has  occa 
sionally  maintained  the  rights  of  men  or  purged  the 
passions  from  which  it  came,  and  been  the  symbol 
of  that  force  needful  to  keep  in  order  a  sinful  world. 
Even  when  we  were  hoping  this  flame  from  below 
was  nearly  quenched,  and  were  looking  with  a  fear 
ful  wonder  at  the  old  extinct  volcanic  craters  of 
human  history  where  it  had  so  tremendously  burst 
forth  into  the  fields  of  human  happiness  and  hope, 
again  its  scorching  and  withering  fury  rises  under 
our  feet,  or  broods  and  lowers  like  a  dreadful  storm 
round  the  whole  horizon  of  the  world,  and  portends 
a  new,  unbounded  conflict  between  Despotism  and 
Freedom ;  while  muttering  thunders  here  and  there, 
or  successive  outbreaks  and  discharges,  marshal  on 
the  strife ;  or  the  figure  of  some  fiery-tongued  refu 
gee  from  oppression  walks  up  and  down,  with  his 
fingers  on  his  hilt,  between  the  opposite  lines  as 
they  are  drawn  out  in  huge  array. 

The  Christian  believer,  not  in  anger  but  deep 
sorrow,  cries  out,  "  How  long,  O  Lord !  how  long 
shall  the  dreadful  delusion,  the  impious  crime,  and 
the  warring  lusts  from  which  they  spring,  abide  ? 
When  shall  the  peace,  announced  by  angels,  be 


KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN.  345 

fulfilled ;  and  the  Prince  of  peace,  who  walked  in 
human  form  so  many  ages  ago,  spiritually  come  ?  " 
How  shall  we  hasten  his  coming?  Oh  that  we 
could  convert  the  world  to  his  temper  and  doctrine 
of  love !  But  we  cannot  wholly  convert  the 
world  that  is.  It  is  impossible  but  that  offences 
come.  Wrath,  injustice,  ambition,  avarice,  have 
still  fearfully  extensive  rule ;  and  these  are  the  bit 
ter  seeds  of  war.  We  cannot  convert  at  once  the 
world.  But  can  we  not  educate  our  children  into 
a  holy  hatred  of  the  spirit  and  deeds  of  war,  and 
thus  turn  the  scale  for  the  coming  time  ?  thus,  pros- 
pectively  at  least,  dethrone  Moloch  from  the  usurped 
human  heart?  Yes:  let  this  too  be  our  peace- 
society,  formed  from  the  hearts  of  the  young,  ga 
thering  its  ranks  throughout  Christendom,  to  march 
at  length,  with  no  carnal  weapons,  but  with  mighty 
and  irresistible  onset,  to  rescue  mankind  from  their 
own  evil  passions,  and  untwine  the  clutch  of  mortal 
enmity  in  which  they  writhe. 

Once  more  :  man,  "  created  to  be  free,"  is,  far  and 
wide,  crushed  beneath  the  tyrannous  hand  of  his 
stronger  fellow-man.  His  neck,  made  to  bow  only 
in  sign  of  obedience  to  God,  is  bent  down  under 
the  despotic  or  enslaving  yoke.  Call  it  in  any  case 
inevitable,  the  result  of  circumstances ;  always  it  is 
proof  of  sin.  All  that  is  holy  in  conscience,  all  that 
is  good  and  loving  in  the  heart,  all  that  is  sacred  in 
piety,  all  that  is  foreboding  in  the  fear  of  God,  yea, 
all  that  is  prudent  and  prophetic  in  the  worldly 


346  CHRIST'S  DOCTRINE  OF  THE 

wisdom  of  man,  rises  up  in  unison  against  the 
monstrous  oppression.  But  still  it  goes  on;  and 
multiplying  millions  groan  in  bondage  here  in  the 
land  of  freedom,  and  there  in  the  other  hemisphere. 
What  shall  we  do  ?  Oh  !  convert  men  by  all 
means  from  the  terrible  wrong !  Secure  the  "  deli 
verance  to  the  captives"  which  Christ  preached. 
"  Set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised."  Good 
gospel-words  they  are.  But  if  oppression,  grown 
hoary  in  her  ancient  and  prescriptive  sway,  will  not 
heed  or  hear,  but  mocks  our  efforts,  laughs  to  scorn 
alike  our  entreaty  and  reproach,  and  succeeds  in 
keeping  us  year  after  year  at  bay  with  one  hand, 
while  she  rivets  the  fetter  or  waves  the  scourge  with 
the  other;  then,  not  remitting  other  just  exertions, 
and  in  any  wise  not  attempting  to  cast  out  Satan 
by  Satan,  we  must  turn  for  help  to  our  children ; 
we  must  gain  over  the  rising  generation  of  Chris 
tendom  to  our  aid.  We  must  educate  the  young 
everywhere  to  the  love  of  liberty,  not  for  themselves, 
for  their  own  dear  sake  and  their  kindred's  sake, 
alone,  but  for  all  men.  Yea,  as  the  old  Carthagi 
nian  captain  swore  his  son  at  the  altar  to  eternal 
hatred  against  Rome,  we  must  administer  to  our 
children  the  higher  vows  of  a  fidelity  to  their  Sa 
viour,  in  the  passing  generation  too  rare ;  and  of  an 
everlasting  opposition  to  every  thing  that  resists  his 
benignant  rule.  This  shall  be  our  anti-slavery  so 
ciety  too,  better  and  stronger  than  all  others,  rising 
up  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  church, 


KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN.  347 

not  with  violent  speech  and  passionate  act,  but  with 
the  slow-moving  yet  ever-onward  phalanx  of  its 
power  sweeping  all  injustice  and  tyranny  from  the 
face  of  the  earth.  For  what  arbitrary  and  cruel 
despotism,  great  or  small,  shall  have  strength  or 
bravery  to  stand  before  it,  as  it  comes  on,  resistless 
as  the  revolution  of  the  globe  ? 

Of  such  as  little  children  is  the  kingdom  of  hea 
ven.  Little  children  brought  to  Christ,  educated 
in  his  truth,  made  to  imbibe  his  spirit,  and  coming 
forward  with  their  innumerable  ranks,  from  every 
land  and  clime,  with  slow  procedure  which  nothing 
can  put  back,  —  they  alone  shall  have  power  finally 
and  fully  to  bring  in  the  authority  and  establish  the 
reign  which  Jesus  Christ  came  from  God  in  heaven 
to  set  up  on  earth  among  men. 

With  solemn  joy  I  hark  to  the  mai^MMiTr  ° 
this  great  troop,  mightier  than  all  the  noisy  hosts 
of  the  camp  and  the  bloody  plain.  Their  tread, 
far  off  and  near  by,  grows  year  by  year  wider  and 
more  audible.  Their  van  is  in  the  midst  of  us. 
Parents  and  teachers  are  divinely  appointed  to  the 
lead  of  the  vast  company.  Tyrants  and  oppressors, 
all  sinners  and  corrupters  of  human  virtue,  tremble 
at  their  coming.  At  the  trumpet  blown  by  their 
youthful  voices,  the  walls  of  every  evil  institution 
shall  fall  down.  Quiet,  and  without  violence,  as 
the  light  of  the  morning,  is  their  advance;  but 
powerful,  all-pervading,  and  creative,  as  the  sun  in 
heaven,  their  influence.  I  see  them  banding,  I  hear 


348  KINGDOM    OF    HEAVEN. 

them  approaching,  as  the  very  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Those  old  words  of  our  text  ring  out  more  arousing 
than  any  clarion  upon  my  ear.  From  the  little 
audience  gathered  on  that  further  side  of  Jordan, 
they  come  as  melody  softly  loud  to  the  great  Cap 
tain's  host,  but,  like  the  music  in  a  march  of  attack, 
dreadful  to  his  foes.  The  gentle  voice  of  him  who 
first  uttered  them,  mustering  those  that  fight  with 
no  carnal  weapons,  waxes  into  a  call  with  which 
the  martial  instruments  of  all  nations  cannot  vie. 
The  Commander's  speech  passes  down  to  every 
one  in  the  conduct  under  him,  till  it  reaches  the 
youngest  follower  in  all  his  ranks.  At  the  pervad 
ing  sound  a  decisive  movement  runs  through  the 
whole  array  advancing  together.  No  reeling  step 
is  seen,  no  clanking  chain  or  scourging  whip  is 
heard.  Only  forward  to  the  victories  of  peace  and 
love,  the  children  of  a  new-born  race,  a  noble  army, 
go.  God  speed  them  !  and  God  help  us  to  speed 
them  on  their  way ! 


349 


DISCOURSE  XXVI. 


THE    CHRISTIAN'S    HEAVENLY  VISION. 

Acts    XXVL    19.  —  "WHEREUPON,   0    KING   AGBIPPA,  I  TVAS  NOT  DIS 
OBEDIENT   UNTO   THE   HEAVENLY  VISION. 

You  are  familiar  with  the  circumstances  of  Paul's 
vision,  —  a  vision  not  of  the  night,  when  ill-defined 
objects  take  the  shape  of  phantoms,  and  strange 
figures,  to  men's  heated  imaginations,  have  issued 
from  graves  and  wandered  through  churchyards; 
but  a  vision  at  mid-day,  —  a  vision  of  Christ,  out 
shining,  as  such  a  vision  well  might,  the  brightness 
of  the  sun,  and  turning  the  noon  into  a  shadow. 
These  circumstances  of  the  apostle's  miraculous 
conversion  are  so  startling,  they  form  a  picture  so 
vivid,  that  they  may  divert  attention  from  the  main 
point  and  application  of  the  story,  in  that  obedience 
to  the  vision,  on  which,  by  Paul  himself,  the  chief 
and  final  emphasis  is  laid ;  and  which  makes  the 
whole  account,  though  miraculous,  available  for 
our  instruction.  For  we,  too,  it  cannot  be  doubted, 
however  earthly  objects  may  absorb  us,  have  occa 
sional  visions  of  heavenly  things.  They  are  Jet 
30 


350        THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION. 

down  upon  us  in  this  dim  spot  which  we  call  earth, 
from  that  upper  world  alone  of  glorious  reality, 
which  is  their  source  ;  and,  when  they  appear,  it  is 
always  with  a  lustre  that  "  never  was  on  sea  or 
land,"  but  transcends  the  beams  of  the  morning, 
and  sometime  lightens  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world.  In  the  pauses  of  our  labor,  or  mid  the 
tasks  of  diligence,  as  the  day  waxes,  or  still  more  as 
it  wanes  to  twilight  again,  they  come  to  us  with 
invitation  or  rebuke.  In  our  youth  they  are  sent  to 
every  one  of  us ;  and,  if  we  remain  at  all  ingenu 
ous  and  aspiring,  they  continue  into  age.  We 
have  all  had  the  visions ;  but  do  we  add  to  the 
visions  the  conscientious  logic  of  Paul,  being  not 
disobedient  to  them  ?  No  question  touches  so  near 
to  the  heart  of  character.  In  the  frequent  contrast 
of  the  vision  with  the  rare  and  poor  obedience,  we 
find  the  full  description  of  all  human  depravity. 
This  failure  to  perform  the  nobleness  which  we 
perceive,  corrupts  the  mind  by  breaking  the  natural 
bond  between  thought  and  action ;  for  it  is  a  true 
proverb  that  good  thoughts  are  no  better  than  good 
dreams,  unless  they  be  executed.  Mere  visions  are 
nowhere  of  any  worth.  "What  would  have  mat 
tered  an  earthly  vision,  so  clear  and  transporting, 
of  the  roundness  of  the  globe,  and  of  seas  and 
lands  rising  and  bending  afar  in  speculative  sight, 
unless  he  to  whom  the  vision  came  had  strained 
every  nerve,  and  moved  kings  and  queens,  to  realize 
his  vision  ? 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION.         351 

But,  beyond  this  generality  of  remark,  there  is  a 
large  class  of  persons  of  whom  this  unfaithfulness 
to  the  heavenly  vision  is  characteristic.  We  do 
not  find  any  fault  with  their  discernment  of  the 
truth.  They  are  keen  and  quick  to  apprehend  a 
proposition,  and  skilled  to  distinguish  its  correct 
ness  or  falsity.  The  whole  sphere  of  spiritual 
realities  is  commonplace  to  them,  —  a  field  all  tra 
velled  over ;  and  every  new  presentation  of  it,  an 
old  story.  But,  though  they  assent  to  Christian 
doctrines  and  commands,  and  rejoice  in  your  finest 
visions,  which  they  will  tell  you  they  have  had 
themselves,  yet  they  do  not  any  of  these  things. 
Like  the  Pharisees  sitting  in  Moses'  seat,  they 
say,  and  do  not.  Like  the  second  son  in  the  para 
ble,  they  have  often  declared  they  would  go,  when 
they  went  not.  There  is  an  ignominious  dis 
proportion  between  their  vast  religious  knowledge 
and  their  slender  moral  action,  like  that  —  if  the 
connection  of  such  superfine  principles  with  such 
vulgar  aims  may  excuse  the  allusion  —  once  sati 
rized  between  the  abundant  wine  drunk,  and  the 
little  bread  eaten,  by  the  sot. 

I  believe  there  is  no  moral  evil,  of  which  we  so 
need  to  be  purged,  as  this  inequality  or  contradic 
tion  between  our  principles  and  our  deeds ;  or  rather 
this  is  the  very  root  and  essence  of  all  sin.  Unless 
asleep  under  the  blaze  of  Christian  light,  we  have 
visions  enough.  What  exclamation  so  common  in 
every  mouth  as  this  :  "  It  is  beautiful ! "  —  that 


352        THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION. 

expression  or  image  of  excellence  and  benignity  in 
nature,  art,  landscape,  painting,  song,  book,  speech, 
"  Oh,  it  is  beautiful ! "  Yes,  but  do  you  obey  its 
beauty,  or  allow  it  to  be  beauty  all  outside  of  you, 
a  mere  vision  and  meteor  of  the  air?  What  is  the 
abstraction  of  beauty  or  excellence  worth,  if  it  is  not 
incorporated  into  your  soul,  incarnated  in  your  life  ? 
It  is  worth  as  much  as  the  gold  of  California  was 
when  hid  deep  in  the  mine,  with  the  rock  binding 
it,  and  the  river  flowing  over  it,  and  the  forest 
towering  above  it,  —  generation  after  generation 
passing  by  it,  all  unsuspected  and  vain.  But  let 
the  abstract  idea  be  worked  out  and  extended  from 
its  lurking-place  through  your  conduct,  and  it  will 
be  like  the  ore  and  sand  changed  into  the  currency 
of  the  nation,  bearing  enormous  business,  and  ines 
timable  wealth,  and  endless  comfort,  on  the  bosom 
of  its  boundless  stream. 

There  is  great,  and,  more  specially  it  must  be 
said,  very  wilful  guilt  in  having  the  vision,  and  not 
fulfilling  it.  For  this  vision  never  stands  as  a  mere 
picture  in  the  imagination,  as  if  God  were  pleasing 
us  with  a  dumb  show  from  heaven ;  but,  as  in 
Paul's  case,  is  always  accompanied  with  a  com 
mand.  It  has  a  lifted  finger  in  it,  a  voice  to  beckon 
or  urge,  "  Do  this ! "  or  "  Forbear  that ! "  It  is  not 
many  different  visions  that  we  have  of  spiritual 
things,  chaotically  changing  like  the  sparklings  in  a 
kaleidoscope,  but  a  few  high  and  glorious  visions 
often  renewed ;  as  though,  by  their  endless  repeti- 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION.         353 

tion,  God  said  they  ought  to  occupy  our  efforts  all 
our  days.     While  we  sing  to  God  our  hymn,  — 


"  I've  seen  thy  glory  and  thy  power 

Through  all  thy  temple  shine : 
My  God  !  repeat  that  heavenly  hour, 
That  vision  so  divine  !  "  — 


after  concluding  our  song,  we  are  not  to  sit  down 
content  with  the  luxury  of  the  vision ;  to  think  we 
are  to  do  nothing  but  eat  this  fairy  food  of  fancy, 
and  take  our  tears  for  our  title  to  heaven,  so  sweet 
and  delicious  sometimes  is  our  weeping ;  but  to 
rise  and  go  forth  to  accomplish  what  we  see  and 
admire. 

So  did  the  author  of  our  text.  Paul's  vision  cost 
him  something.  He  had  more  to  do  than  paint  it, 
brilliant  as  a  work  of  Raphael  or  Michael  Angelo, 
in  that  famous  oration  ojf  his  to  Agrippa.  He  had 
to  walk,  in  obedience  to  it,  like  a  servant  after  his 
master,  through  Judea,  and  to  go  into  Arabia,  and 
sail  over  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  traverse  bar 
barous  lands,  and  be  in  perils  of  robbers,  and  fight 
with  wild  beasts  at  Ephesus,  not  safe  among  his 
own  countrymen,  in  chains  at  Rome,  all  from  that 
vision !  as  he  courageously  preached,  and  grandly 
exemplified  his  preaching;  never  refusing  for  him 
self  more  than  all  the  labor  and  suffering  which  he 
enjoined  upon  others.  He  had  visions  indeed! 
Sometimes  he  knew  not  whether  he  was  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body ;  he  was  caught  up  to  the 
26* 


354        THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION. 

third  heaven,  heard  unspeakable  words ;  was  in  a 
trance  in  the  temple ;  but  his  visions  were  no  dim, 
unsubstantial,  transitory  spectres  of  midnight  ghast- 
liness.  He  drew  them  down  from  the  heavens  to 
the  earth,  as  the  old  sage  did  philosophy.  He 
made  them,  like  living,  noble-spirited  creatures, 
work  in  the  toil  of  life  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
salvation  of  men.  He  never  was  a  dreamer,  with 
out  being  a  doer  of  his  dreams.  He  counted  it 
foolish  even  to  narrate  or  enumerate  his  visions  in 
words,  instead  of  putting  them  into  deeds.  What 
he  saw,  on  the  road  to  Damascus,  of  the  great 
Lord  and  Master,  we  read,  made  him  blind  to 
surrounding  things  in  the  world;  and  if,  without 
the  supernatural  wonder,  we  have  the  same  vision 
of  all  that  is  holy  and  divine  in  Jesus,  we  shall 
.be  voluntarily  a  little  blind  to  what  is  commonly 
brightest  and  most  dazzling  in  the  eyes  of  men  on 
earth. 

In  urging  the  obedience,  let  me  not  undervalue 
the  vision.  We  must  first  have  the  heavenly  vision 
to  obey.  It  will  not  answer  just  to  be  busy  with  in 
dustry,  however  constant,  if  aimless  or  having  only 
a  vulgar  design.  The  great  vision  of  truth  and 
.duty  must  arise  and  be  gazed  at,  to  guide  us. 
"  Where  there  is  no  vision,  the  people  perish."  The 
worker,  teacher,  scholar,  trader,  parent,  child,  must 
have  a  vision  of  the  good  that  is  to  be  sought  and 
done,  each  in  his  own  task  or  vocation.  But,  then, 
they  who  are  to  be  honored  are  not  the  visionaries, 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION.        355 

who  theorize  about  justice  and  good,  and  set  their 
minds  simply  to  catch  splendid  conceptions,  like  a 
line  for  fish  in  the  stream,  throwing  away  in  subtle 
musings  the  while  what  they  catch  ;  but  the  actors 
who  embody  their  best  conceptions  in  solid  deeds. 
Unfulfilled  visions !  they  are  but  a  motto  belied,  a 
seal  falsified,  a  coat-of-arms  disgraced  by  the  de 
generate  wearer.  Imaginative  thinkers  and  base 
actors,  transcendent  in  selfishness  as  in  thought, 
voluble  and  talking  well  but  failing  in  the  result, 
deserve  not  the  respect  belonging  to  those  less  loqua 
cious  of,  but  more  obedient  to,  the  heavenly  vision 
which  is  not  in  their  head  only,  but  in  their  heart 
and  in  their  hand.  Oh !  it  is  easy  to  have  a  vision 
of  a  plan  for  the  poor,  the  sick,  the  sorrowful ;  the 
advice,  supply,  help,  or  warning  to  those  ignorant, 
wayward  spirits  or  desolate  hearths.  But  who, 
with  deeds  of  succor,  and  words  of  encouragement 
and  cheer  that  are  sometimes  deeds  when  they 
come  from  a  doer's  mouth,  will  bring  the  vision  to 
pass?  If  every  strong  man  would  help  some  weak 
one,  it  would  be  done ;  the  social  problem,  which, 
from  England  to  America,  so  troubles  us,  solved ; 
and  all  the  talk  about  poverty  and  destitution 
cease.  It  is  all  a  question  of  obedience  to  the 
vision. 

The  Lord  said  to  his  servant  of  old,  "  Come  up 
to  me  into  the  mount;"  where  was  the  sight  of  his 
glory  like  devouring  fire.  And  into  the  mountain 
of  the  Lord,  we  have  all  some  time  gone  up.  Ex- 


356         THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION. 

perience  of  the  vanity  of  this  world  has  sometimes 
carried  us  up  to  a  larger  view  of  life.  Meditation 
and  prayer  have  on  their  pinions  lifted  us.  Grief, 
the  dark  angel,  a  household  companion,  covering 
our  customary  haunts  with  gloom,  has  yet  atoned 
for  this,  by  taking  us  under  its  wings,  and  bearing 
us  to  the  contemplation  of  eternal  life  and  blessed 
ness.  Disappointment,  the  flight  of  riches,  the  ruin 
of  prosperity,  driving  us  from  lower  pursuits,  have 
roughly  raised  us  aloft,  and  revealed  grand  realities 
and  enduring  satisfactions.  In  these  ampler  pro 
spects,  from  this  loftier  station,  during  "these  high 
hours  of  visitation  from  the  living  God,"  how  the 
ordinary  interests  which  absorb  and  impassion  us 
sink  far  away!  How  low  and  how  mean,  from  the 
height  we  stand  on,  like  fields  and  streams  dimin 
ished  in  the  distance,  they  look !  —  earthly  goods, 
honor,  pleasure,  and  power,  turning  to  dross,  trod 
den  under  foot  as  refuse,  and  blown  away  like 
chaff! 

But  we  cannot  be  in  this  state  of  vision  all  the 
time,  ever  above  the  world.  We  must  go  down 
into  the  world.  But  to  what  purpose  do  we  go 
down,  without  the  vision  to  rule  and  direct?  Oh 
that  we  could  go  down,  not  disobedient  to  the 
heavenly  vision  !  —  like  God's  servant,  when  he 
fashioned  the  ark  in  all  things  like  the  pattern 
shown  him  in  the  mount ;  so  ordering  our  beha 
vior  according  to  all  that  God  has  shown  to  the 
eye  of  our  mind;  squaring  our  dealings  to  that 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION.        357 

celestial  equity,  shaping  our  utterance  to  that  im 
mortal  truth,  and  making  our  mercy  flow  in  the 
circle  of  that  eternal  love. 

But  there  is  the  difficulty.  This  is  no  delightful 
pastime,  no  holiday  sport,  easy  as  breathing.  This 
is  the  working  part.  This  requires  all  patience,  toil, 
and  perseverance.  The  first  is  but  sight  and  calcu 
lation,  like  mathematical  estimates  upon  paper ;  the 
last,  the  construction  of  the  building,  with  posts  and 
beams  of  timber.  The  first  is  like  the  artist's  idea, 
as  it  visits  him,  glad  and  inspiring ;  the  last,  the 
canvas  full  of  forms,  and  the  block  become  a  statue, 
which  he  stooped  and  wore  his  frame  to  draw  and 
mould. 

Be  careful  indeed  to  behold  first  the  vision  of 
divine  righteousness,  like  David,  who,  as  we  read, 
was  envious  at  the  flourishing  of  the  wicked,  till  he 
went  into  the  sanctuary,  saw  the  vision  of  God's 
justice,  and  understood  their  end.  In  the  sanc 
tuary  behold  it :  then  go  forth  from  the  sanctuary 
to  make  the  world  a  temple,  by  your  observance  of 
the  righteousness  you  have  beheld.  Let  strong 
endeavors,  displays  of  magnanimity,  institutions  to 
educate,  relieve,  and  save,  express  your  visions ; 
else  they  fade  without  use,  as  seed  in  the  cata 
combs  not  sprouting  for  thousands  of  years.  Be 
fore  a  vision  of  liberty  for  mankind,  the  thrones  of 
all  Europe  sometimes  seern  to  rock.  Shall  the 
greater  vision  of  the  moral  redemption  of  mankind 
pass  before  us  in  vain,  unapplied  to  our  own  souls, 


358         THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION. 

fruitless  to  those  around  us  within  our  reach  ?  So 
thought  not  the  apostle  Paul. 

At  every  step  this  law  meets  us,  and  searches 
close  into  our  hearts  and  homes.  Visions  of  duty, 
of  what  is  right,  generous,  magnanimous  in  our 
own  household,  appear ;  and  we  think,  "  Oh,  how 
fair  and  gracious  and  generous  we  will  be!"  They 
do  appear.  We  kindle  at  them.  For  the  moment, 
we  think  we  are  as  good  as  the  visions  them 
selves.  Do  we  obey  them  ?  Do  those  moments 
of  belief  and  resolution  become  years  of  faithful 
ness  ?  The  kindness,  humility,  fidelity,  self-sacri 
fice,  and  self-renunciation  that  delight  us  in  vision, 
as  we  meditate  and  pray  in  our  closet  or  by  our 
fireside,  are  they  ours  in  fact ;  or  are  they  as  some 
thing  that  we  think  we  hold  in  our  hand,  but, 
opening  our  hand,  find  we  have  it  not  ?  Are  they 
only  a  print  and  inscription  in  the  "  volume  of  the 
brain,"  as  sometimes  in  the  modern  Syrian  Church, 
on  each  morsel  of  the  bread  of  communion,  for 
every  single  partaker,  is  stamped  a  little  image  of 
the  cross  ?  But  only  they  are  faithful  who  have 
that  cross  transferred  to  be  engraven  in  their  heart 
and  life.  In  the  church-calendar,  there  is  a  feast 
of  the  Epiphany,  or  celebration  of  the  star  in  the 
wise  men's  vision.  But,  though  kings  still  repeat 
the  magi's  gifts,  what  does  it  signify,  save  to  those 
who  obey  the  vision  heralded  for  all  time  ? 

Must  we  not  lowly  kneel  before  God,  and  con- 
fesSj  —  "  Lo !  we  have  had  many  visions  of  hea- 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HEAVENLY  VISION.         359 

venly  truth  and  goodness  ;  and  to  but  few  have  we 
been  '  not  disobedient.'  Lo !  the  forerunners  of 
divine  beauty  and  sanctity  have  been  seen  by  us, 
and  often  not  followed.  Ideas  of  disinterestedness 
and  perfect  love  have  gleamed  upon  us,  which  we 
have  not  put  into  action.  Obligations  of  self- 
control,  stronger  than  the  bands  that  bind  nature 
together,  have  been  witnessed  in  us,  which  we  have 
not,  in  every  restrained  appetite  and  tempered  incli- 
clination,  kept."  Let  mercy  not  quench  the  light 
by  which  we  have  so  failed  to  be  guided ;  but,  from 
the  Holy  Spirit,  may  it  still  shine,  till  it  become 
the  illustration  of  our  course,  as  it  is  the  only 
brightness  and  dignity  of  our  nature.  A  pillar  of 
fire  in  our  darkness,  and  of  cloud  only  upon  the 
gaudy  pomp  and  miserable  vanity  that  would  mis 
lead,  let  it  still  win  us  from  all  our  wanderings, 
steadily  on  to  whence  it  came  in  the  better  land ! 


CONCLUSION. 


THE  preceding  discourses,  having  each  one  its  own 
theme,  may,  I  trust,  be  read  separately  with  no 
lack  of  unity  and  completeness.  My  method  of 
arrangement,  however,  makes  them  but  the  sequel 
of  another  series,  and  forms  them  into  one  pro 
gressive  work.  Persuaded  that  Christianity,  though 
a  spiritual,  is  not  an  indefinite  religion ;  convinced 
of  the  importance  of  accepting  it  in  its  clearness  as 
well  as  its  comprehensiveness ;  and  seeing  the  loss 
and  mischief  involved  in  overlooking  its  peculiari 
ties,  in  confounding  it  with  any  other  thing,  or 
with  all  things  universally,  generalizing  it  away  into- 
an  indeterminate,  unappreciable  quality  of  vague 
laudation  and  barren  result,  —  I  have  essayed  to  pre 
sent,  however  faintly,  its  lineaments.  This  single 
ness  of  aim  may  excuse  a  few  words  more  in  the 
same  intention  of  binding  together  the  disjoined 
and  scattered  members  of  a  religion,  which  may,  in 
so  many  ways,  be  mutilated  or  missed.  Feeling 
how  imperfectly  I  have  represented  the  Christian 
Body  and  Form,  scarcely  winning  more  than  the 
shadow  thereof  to  fall  on  my  leaves ;  and  that,  as 
31 


362  CONCLUSION. 

with  the  old  warrior's  stature,  which  the  poet  mea 
sures  as  identified  with  his  absent  troop,  — 

"  Were  the  whole  frame  here, 
It  is  of  such  a  spacious,  lofty  pitch, 
Your  roof  were  not  sufficient  to  contain  it ; "  — 

I  would  make  one  more  closing  attempt  to  touch,  if 
not  embrace,  the  substance.  I  know  not  how  better 
to  finish  my  design  of  indicating  the  entire  shape 
of  the  gospel,  than,  under  the  figure  already  sug 
gested,  of  traits  or  features.  According  to  the 
Scripture  itself,  the  revelation  made  to  us  is  of 
the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  which 
beholding  as  in  a  glass,  we  are  transformed  into 
the  same  image.  Let  us  ask,  What  is  this  counte 
nance,  presented  in  our  faith,  which,  as  at  a  glance, 
we  can  catch  and  hold  ever  before  us,  to  enlighten 
and  to  guide  ? 

It  resembles  with  a  difference,  or  presents  at  once 
more  and  less  than  we  find  in,  the  countenance  of 
nature,  the  wide  face  of  the  world.  It  has  indeed 
the  same  strength,  intelligence,  and  benignity ;  but 
to  the  sincere  observer  it  has  no  abysses  of  horrible 
doubt,  no  shifting  mists  of  blind  uncertainty,  no 
measureless  depths  of  appalling  gloom,  correspond 
ing  to  the  blank  terror  and  baffling  darkness  of  the 
creation.  It  does  not,  by  a  merely  interrogatory  or 
an  indecisive  aspect,  balk  the  mind,  put  it  on  a 
weary  quest  to  work  out  a  reply  to  its  own  inqui 
ries,  vexing  it  to  settle  for  itself  whether  there  be 


CONCLUSION.  363 

many  gods  or  one  Maker ;  or  to  handle,  in  eternal 
fear,  the  problem  whether  the  Power  above  it  be 
purely  good,  or  moved  with  malignity,  —  but  at 
once  solves  these  questions  in  the  luminous  shining 
through  it  of  the  only  Disposer  and  the  perfect 
Father.  In  this  face  of  Christianity,  there  is  no 
empty  void,  no  hopeless  confusion,  uneasy  hesita 
tion,  or  vast  obscure  misgiving,  as  in  the  stony  look 
of  an  Egyptian  sphinx.  There  is  on  it  no  mocking 
mask,  suggesting  an  eyeless  and  heartless  waste 
beneath,  as  in  the  huge  lines  of  the  hard  and  hollow 
shell  of  Pantheism.  But  there  is  a  plain,  everlasting 
glory  of  truth,  justice,  and  love,  to  satisfy  the  long 
ing  soul.  It  has  living  features,  that  grew  from  the 
likeness  of  an  innocent  child  into  divine  knowledge 
and  power ;  and,  through  the  first  unperceiving  ig 
norance  of  the  world,  up  to  the  chief  recognition  of 
the  human  mind,  taking  centuries  for  their  develop 
ment,  and,  that  they  may  stand  in  mature  dignity 
before  all  nations,  requiring  centuries  more  to  give 
them  room. 

In  this  figure  of  Christianity  the  visible  aspect  is 
shown  through  all  its  express  ordinances  and  insti 
tutions,  the  meaning  and  importance  of  which  I 
have  striven  to  unfold.  Thus  the  truth  of  the 
Scripture-illustration  is  plainly  evinced ;  for,  as  we 
must  look  into  the  face  of  a  relative  or  friend  to 
ascertain  his  purpose  and  spirit,  so  we  must  attend 
to  the  rites  of  Christianity  to  receive  its  instruction. 
With  any  mortal  countenance  it  is  in  no  definable 


364  CONCLUSION. 

complexion  or  fixed  proportion  alone,  but  rather  in 
the  fine  and  grand  expression,  that  the  interest  or 
beauty  consists ;  so  is  it  in  the  shape  of  our  religion. 
It  is  the  love  that  warms  its  service,  the  holiness  that 
flows  through  its  signs,  the  mercy  and  forgiveness 
established  in  its  monuments,  that  make  all  these 
outward  characteristics  dear.  As  the  electric  wire 
is  valuable  for  the  earthly  communications  which 
it  brings,  which  no  other  channel  could  seasonably 
to  the  pressing  need  convey;  so  the  historic  and 
actual  matter  of  Christianity  is  unspeakably  pre 
cious  for  the  messages  from  heaven  which  it  carries 
to  the  relief  and  assurance  of  the  human  heart,  and 
which,  in  the  breaking  of  its  line,  would  be  inter 
rupted,  and  might  never  come  to  yield  their  glad 
tidings.  Yet  to  stop  with  the  ritual,  and  to  worship 
the  ordinances,  is  like  amusing  one's  self  with  the 
play  of  the  magnets  yonder,  instead  of  heeding  their 
commands ;  or  like  idolizing  the  face  of  a  friend, 
without  ever  entering  into  his  soul.  It  is  a  singular 
fact  that  our  memory  holds  in  a  less  distinct  mate 
rial  measure  the  countenance  of  those  dearest  to  us 
than  it  does  that  of  comparative  strangers,  because, 
I  suppose,  the  mind  comes  at  length  to  penetrate  to 
and  rest  on  the  idea  and  sentiment  beneath.  So, 
in  proportion  as  we  reach  to  the  significance  of  the 
ritual,  though  only  prizing  it  all  the  more  for  what 
it  conducts,  we  shall  stand  less  by  any  rigid  mode 
of  its  construction. 

Presenting   Christianity  under   this   idea  of  its 


CONCLUSION.  365 

countenance  or  features  also  explains  much  of  what 
has  been  thought  its  varying  character,  and  of  the 
diverse  views  taken  of  it.  A  living  countenance, 
though  it  be  of  the  best,  wisest,  and  most  consistent 
being,  is  not  the  same  to  all  observers  or  to  any 
one  observer  in  all  moods.  Nay,  moral  consistency 
requires  his  different  regard  for  different  objects. 
Upon  one  action  or  quality  of  a  faithful  soul  he 
will  gaze  with  approval  and  pleasure ;  and  his  face, 
as  you  notice  it,  shall  be  nothing  but  benignity  and 
smiles.  For  another  opposite  action  and  quality, 
on  the  same  principle,  he  can  show  only  dislike ; 
as  God  himself  beholds  the  good  with  complacency, 
but  cannot  look  upon  sin  without  abhorrence:  — 

"  Now  thou  array'st  thine  awful  face 
In  angry  frowns  without  a  smile." 

So  is  it  with  the  countenance  of  Christianity.  There 
is  in  it  no  external  dead  immobility,  but  the  nicest 
shades  and  gradations  of  favor  or  disesteem.  It 
appears  as  though  alive  to  discern  and  judge.  It 
fronts  the  wilful  and  persisting  transgressor  with 
holy  indignation,  and  in  its  eye  a  consuming  fire. 
Its  very  love  takes  the  form  of  wrath  for  the  wicked. 
It  gathers  blackness  to  the  hypocrite  and  the  pro 
fligate,  yet  is  full  of  sweet  records  and  promises  to 
the  obedient.  It  holds  forth  no  average  doom  of 
general  denunciation  to  all  offenders,  but  discrimi 
nates  the  varieties  of  guilt  and  adjusts  its  menace 
to  each  degree ;  burning  almost  with  literal  flame 
31* 


366  CONCLUSION. 

against    gross   uncleanness    and    the   double-dyed 
fraud,  that  cannot  appreciate  the  fine  of  a  noble 
penalty  or  feel  the  torment  of  remorse  ;  and  waiting 
all   the  while  with  generous  reproach  and   high- 
minded  shame  on  the  conviction  of  the  sensitive 
and   awakened   spirit:    as   the   parental   office    of 
earthly  punishment,  that  must  for  one  child  be  done 
with  a  rod,  is  effectually  discharged  for  another 
with  a  glance.     This  is  the  marvel  and  glory  of 
our  religion  coming  forth  through  the  gospel  fea 
tures.    It  draws  its  lines  delicately  as  its  vision  falls 
light  and  tender  on  the  short-comings  of  which  we 
repent  and  the  errors  we  forsake  ;  but  with  the  flash 
of  terrific  lightning  it  trenches  into  and  scars  our 
obstinate  iniquity.    According  as  we  yield  or  resist, 
it  stoops  fierce  as  the  eagle,  or  broods  gentle  as  the 
dove.    It  "  looks  "  upon  Peter,  and  sends  Judas  "  to 
his  own  place."    It  is  a  blending  of  love  and  purity, 
in  which  "  both  strive  and  both  prevail."    With  one 
hand  it  pours  out  the  cleansing  stream,  and  with 
the  other  beckons  to  the  happy  feast ;  but,  as  the 
disciples  of  ancient  religions  washed  before  eating, 
so  must  we  first  purify  ourselves  at  its  font  for  the 
best  enjoyment  of  its  board. 

For  human  virtue  and  fidelity,  too,  the  counte 
nance  of  Christianity  has  a  scale  of  expression,  broad 
and  minute,  corresponding  to  the  elevation  of  what 
it  would  reward.  To  those  who  serve  God  from 
inferior  motives,  and  attend  more  to  the  recompense 
than  to  the  intrinsic  gladness  of  their  devotion,  it 


CONCLUSION. 


367 


makes  the  New  Jerusalem  glimmer  with  founda 
tions  and  gates  of  gold  and  pearl  and  precious  stones, 
and  opens  a  sight  of  harps  and  crowns  and  palms. 
But,  to  the  refined  and  exalted  soul,  that  asks  no  pay 
ment  but  the  privilege  of  devotion,  it  turns  all  these 
things  into  shadowy  emblems,  as  its  face  shines 
with  the  rapture  of  the  worship,  and  beams  with  the 
gratitude  of  the  song.  For  ever  its  flexible  features 
are  the  sign  of  its  inflexible  mind  of  truth  and  just 
ice  and  love  to  the  sons  of  men. 

One  class  of  believers,  possessed  with  the  terrors 
of  the  violated  law,  smitten  from  above  with  the 
injured  majesty  of  divine  holiness,  and  wrought 
upon  from  below  by  a  terrible  fascination  from 
"  that  old  serpent  called  the  Devil,"  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour  in  their  transgression,  —  add  a  cast 
of  exaggerated  gloom  to  the  features  of  our  reli 
gion  ;  and,  giving  an  exclusive  sense  and  excessive 
emphasis  to  its  traits  of  threatening,  carry  the  awe 
of  celestial  equity  into  a  dire  cruelty  of  eternal 
infliction  and  boundless  torture,  which,  imposed  or 
prescribed,  would  be  the  disgrace  of  the  worst 
tyranny  in  the  world.  An  antagonist  class  of  be 
lievers,  of  more  joyous  and  sanguine  temper,  so 
abide  by  their  confidence  in  the  divine  goodness  to 
every  creature  ;  so  forget  the  possible  severity  and 
length  of  discipline,  that  may,  by  aggravation  of 
human  sin,  be  made  necessary  to  the  ends  of  that 
very  goodness ;  and  so  overlook  the  sad  and 
dreadful  instrumentalities  of  Providence  ploughing 


368  CONCLUSION. 

through  the  world,  and  sinking  deep  its  furrows 
of  pain  at  our  very  side, —  as  to  tone  down  the 
solemn  aspect  of  Christianity  into  a  likeness  of 
cheap  enjoyment ;  to  delineate  a  portrait  in  which 
its  native  dignity  seems  giving  way  to  superficial 
levity ;  and,  in  the  very  act  of  removing  from  their 
similitude  of  the  Faith  the  deep  and  lasting  marks 
of  controversy  with  God,  take  away  also  from  the 
real  worth  and  honor  of  the  human  soul,  either  in 
its  own  esteem  or  the  respect  of  its  Author.  For, 
in  our  contention  which  we  wage  with  the  Most 
High,  and  in  the  point  which  he  raises  with  us 
because  of  our  offences,  our  nature  is  more  en 
nobled,  and  will  finally  be  more  blessed,  than  by 
any  easy  and  good-humored  smoothing-over  of  the 
difficulty,  or  slight  healing  of  our  wound.  That  is 
not  the  office  of  the  good  physician,  which  Christ 
is,  and  which  God  is.  In  these  allusions,  however, 
I  intend  not  to  designate  particular  denominations 
as  they  are  known  and  arranged  under  any  old 
titles  ;  for  the  ancient  bands  are  so  broken,  and,  as 
sometimes  has  happened  with  soldiers  in  actual 
battle,  different  companies,  in  their  plans  and 
measures  of  opinion,  are  so  inextricably  mixed 
and  confused  together,  that  the  uniform  cannot  be 
distinguished,  — :  and  the  ancient  nomenclatures 
have  lost  much  of  their  value.  I  mean  only  those, 
more  or  fewer,  who  answer  to  my  description.  Any 
near  approach  to  a  creed  either  of  laxity  or  rigor 
can  appear  but  as  a  vagary,  completely  off  the 


CONCLUSION.  369 

ground  of  Scripture-truth.  Instead  of  altering  or 
contracting  the  well-proportioned  view  of  the  gos 
pel  by  our  own  extreme  or  narrow  mood,  it  is 
better  to  remark  in  it,  according  to  the  New  Tes 
tament  account,  "  the  goodness  and  severity  of 
God." 

The  features  of  our  religion  look  beyond  the 
present  moment.  Certainly  the  countenance  of 
Christianity  is  confined  to  no  immediate  and  ephe 
meral  significance,  like  a  thoughtless,  merry  face  at 
a  festival  or  in  the  street;  but,  like  an  angel's  face 
in  the  divine  art  of  the  old  painters'  canvas,  it 
reflects  the  light  of  other  worlds,  and  is  full  to  over 
flowing  of  future  reference.  A  coming  day,  a  final 
reckoning,  shines  clearly  through.  There  is  in  it  no 
sharp-sighted  selfishness,  no  shrewd  and  knowing 
calculation  of  profit  and  loss  in  these  lower  affairs 
of  ours,  but  a  sublime  inspection  of  the  grand 
issues  of  weal  and  woe,  according  to  the  right  or 
wrong  of  human  character.  We  may  choose  for  a 
time  not  to  meet  this  survey  of  our  deeds  and  dis 
positions  in  their  consequences.  Not  daring  to 
think  that  we  can  outface  Christianity ;  prudently 
fearing  that,  catching  our  eye,  it  may  disturb  our 
countenance,  we  may  prefer,  with  cool  aversion, 
to  turn  away  from  its  sight.  But  we  cannot  for 
ever  escape,  or  put  it  away.  Fixed  in  eternal 
truth,  it  will  at  length  pierce  our  insensibility,  scare 
our  indifference,  and  force  our  fugitive  souls  to 
forsake  all  their  doublings,  to  confront  and  abide 


370 


CONCLUSION. 


its  search.  The  institutions  set  up,  the  affections 
cultivated,  the  explanation  of  evil  offered,  the  ob 
ject  of  life  to  be  pursued  through  death,  the  works 
done,  doctrines  delivered,  and  terms  of  judgment 
proposed,  under  its  light,  are  all  in  relation  with 
the  ages  beyond  this  little  stream  of  existence ;  and 
lose  no  less  the  amplitude  of  the  intention  than  the 
scope  of  their  influence,  when  restricted  from  a 
limitless  reach  of  being. 

There  is  indeed  a  strange,  almost  paradoxical, 
power  and  beauty  for  both  worlds  in  this  counte 
nance  of  our  religion.  Fastened  full  upon  all  the 
business  of  earth,  without  a  visionary  tinge,  it  is 
yet  charged  with  supernatural  enthusiasm.  It 
glows  with  unbounded  ecstasy,  and  smites  with 
unweighed  warning.  It  unrolls  an  "  eternal  bla 
zon  "  of  rapture  or  despair,  according  to  the  reader 
of  its  page.  It  is  a  miraculous  scroll,  like  that 
which  the  prophet  saw  flying  through  mid-heaven ; 
only  it  is  written  within  and  without  in  tokens  of 
grace,  mercy,  and  forgiveness,  as  well  as  mourn 
ing,  lamentation,  and  woe.  It  contemplates  this 
temporal  state  as  crowded  with  great  deeds  and 
momentous  consequences  ;  and,  meanwhile,  mirrors 
that  everlasting  lot  before  which  the  world  shrinks 
to  a  cipher,  and  passes  like  a  dream.  It  is  per 
fectly  practical  and  infinitely  ideal ;  yet  in  one 
character  does  not  contradict,  but  only  completes, 
the  other. 

What  look  shall  we,  in  our  turn,  give  back  to 


CONCLUSION. 

this  large-featured  respect  of  our  religion  ?  Cer 
tainly  it  should  be  a  look  of  reverence  and  grati 
tude  from  pupils  who  would  learn,  and  children 
who  would  obey.  As  with  the  face  of  a  parent  or 
ruler,  our  own  regard  greatly  determines  the  regard 
which  we  shall  receive.  An  eye  of  defiance  can 
create  in  wisdom  and  goodness  themselves  only  an 
offended  and  avenging  air,  which,  to  our  trust  and 
submission,  will  become  "  sweet  as  summer."  Even 
the  solid  features  of  the  world  change  with  the 
mind  of  the  observer ;  and  those  finer  traits  of  truth, 
which  the  free  Spirit  of  God  instantly  moulds,  are 
infallibly  adapted  to  the  moral  condition  and  wants 
of  his  offspring.  Ah !  the  inconsistency  sometimes 
imputed  to  the  Bible  is  rather -in  ourselves.  If  it 
be,  as  the  skeptic  says,  a  harp  that  plays  many 
different  tunes,  it  is  because  there  is  many  an  ear 
of  various  chord  to  listen  to  its  sound ;  because  one 
bold  and  rushing  temper  needs  its  alarming  note, 
and  another  bruised  spirit  requires  a  gentler  melo 
dy  ;  because  a  crash  of  ominous  discord  is  the  very 
and  only  thing  to  arrest  the  steps  of  the  ungodly, 
and,  to  the  penitent,  a  different  sweeping  of  the 
same  strings, 

"  In  strains  as  soft  as  angels  use, 
Should  whisper  peace." 

If  we  have  come  into  harmony  and  atonement  with 
God,  the  very  thunders  that  burst  terrifying  over 
our  impious  head  shall  pass  into  solemn  music,  and 


372  CONCLUSION. 

melt  into  the  innocuous  blaze  that  darts  up  bril 
liance  above  the  horizon  without  a  bolt  or  a  roar. 

Let  us  render  to  the  religion,  that  accosts  us  so 
justly  and  kindly,  the  confiding  and  deferential 
entertainment  which  it  deserves.  Let  us  meet  the 
benevolent  guest,  that  visits  us,  with  an  equal  and 
corresponding  good-will.  Let  it  lead  us  even  as 
the  Lord  would  his  servant,  "  I  will  guide  thee  with 
mine  eye."  The  good  son  asks  only  his  father's 
look,  or  changing  countenance,  to  move  and  wind 
him  better  than  bit  and  bridle  can  the  horse, 
or  helm  the  ship.  So  he  that  studies  and  knows 
Christianity  shall  trace  in  her  complexion  an  index 
to  all  duty,  a  guard  against  temptation,  and  deli 
verance  from  every  doubt.  He  shall  find  in  her  a 
friend  that  will  never  desert  him,  but,  in  time  of 
want,  be  always  at  hand.  She  shall  mark  out  his 
course  through  this  wilderness,  and  recover  him 
from  his  wandering.  She  shall  surely  counsel  him 
in  every  perplexity ;  she  shall  sympathize  with 
him  in  his  sorrow ;  she  shall  sit  beside  him  in  his 
sickness ;  and  bend  over  his  dying  bed,  pity  fleeing 
before  triumph  in  her  face,  as,  with  jubilant  singing, 
she  opens  the  prospect  of  more  abundant  and  un 
ceasing  life.  She  shall  do  it,  did  I  say  ?  Shall  I 
not  rather,  without  a  figure,  say  that  Christ  himself, 
her  author  and  finisher,  shall  do  all  this  ?  Yea,  it  is 
his  face  that  we  shall  see  in  his  religion.  Through 
him  we  shall  be  satisfied  when  we  awake  in  the 
likeness  of  God,  and  in  the  light  of  his  reconciling 


CONCLUSION.  373 

countenance.  When  he  shall  put  and  hush  us  to 
sleep  in  the  evening  of  our  days,  in  that  night  of 
death  which  approaches,  may  he  so  too  awake 
us! 

Like  a  surveyor  whose  only  way  to  get  the  mea 
sure  of  some  huge  natural  object  is  by  going  to  its 
different  sides  and  taking  many  points  of  observa 
tion,  so  I  have  tried  to  reach  the  shape  of  this  vast 
and  real  thing  which  we  call  Christianity.  The 
true  aim  in  any  such  attempt  is,  if  possible,  so  to 
present  revealed  truth  that  it  shall  avoid  injuring 
the  proper  freedom  of  thought,  and  yet  possess  de 
terminate  attributes,  clothing  without  cramping  the 
mind.  In  the  name  of  liberty  to  bring  forward  on 
the  wings  of  ignorant  or  purely  individual  inspira 
tion  gospels  continually  new,  with  transcendent 
caprice  to  set  aside  all  that  is  solid  in  Christian 
history  and  experimental  in  its  action  on  the  hu 
man  soul,  for  the  substitution  of  some  ever-shifting 
notion  of  forward  fancy,  is  as  foolish  and  unprofi 
table  in  religion  as  would  be  a  similar  course  in 
philosophy,  of  presuming  to  instruct  in  a  branch  of 
wisdom  with  no  knowledge  how  its  disciples  have 
ever  reasoned.  Christianity  is  a  Spirit  and  Life; 
Christianity  is  a  Body  and  Form.  In  feeling  along 
the  joints  and  tracing  the  vital  cords  of  this  great 
system,  which  so  defies  logical  analysis,  and  when 
dissected  is  dead,  wheresoever  I  have  deviated,  and 
whatever  I  may  have  left  unascertained,  I  trust  at 
least  not  to  have  forgotten  that  my  business  has 
32 


374  CONCLUSION. 

been  intuition  of  existing  traits,  not  the  vain  pre 
tence,  by  private  creation,  of  an  imaginary  likeness. 
The  last  link  attained  in  our  religion  is  that  be 
tween  vision  and  obedience :  this  is  the  sensorium 
of  its  substance  and  soul.  In  vision  the  gospel 
comes  to  us  in  its  extreme  refinement ;  in  obedience 
it  is  most  manifest  and  concrete.  Its  two  opposite 
and  extreme  terms  are  thus,  as  the  ether  condensed 
into  atmosphere,  brought  together.  To  bring  them 
practically  together  with  clear  success  and  entire 
accomplishment  is  to  be  the  perfect  Christian. 
Should  my  poor  discoursing  assist  any  to  a  result 
so  admirable  and  everlasting  in  its  promise  of  good, 
I  shall  thank  God  for  effecting  a  design  which  he 
has  allowed  me  to  entertain. 

But,  even  with  some  failure,  it  should  not  be 
counted  ill  to  undertake  a  delineation  of  Chris 
tianity  in  strokes  at  once  firm  and  flowing ;  to  seek 
the  solid  breadth  of  ideas,  without  the  rigidity  of 
dogmas ;  and  to  present  the  church,  not  according  to 
an  unyielding  pattern,  like  an  iron  frame  and  steel 
points  to  get  the  fac-simile  of  a  human  face,  but  in 
the  free  posture  and  expressive  feeling  of  a  por 
traiture  made  by  the  pencil,  instead  of  the  cold 
and  dull  daguerreotype.  Perhaps  no  controversy 
of  the  day  has  raged  with  so  great  and  prolonged 
acrimony  as  that  upon  the  precise  model  of  eccle 
siastical  service.  The  assumption  of  any  exact  ob 
servance  as  authoritatively  existing  in  Christianity, 
and  capable  of  being  certainly  settled  in  the  uniform 


CONCLUSION.  375 

practice  of  Christians,  is  one  of  falsehood  and  philo 
sophical  impossibility ;  and  the  protracting  of  such 
dispute  about  externals  is  like  that  problem  on 
the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter,  which  is  alike 
undemonstrable  and  endless.  While  the  main  fea 
tures  of  evangelical  worship  are  fixed,  the  visible 
procedure  of  the  worshippers,  like  the  stature  of  a 
human  being,  changes  and  grows,  takes  on  new 
beauty  and  power,  according  to  the  unfoldings  of 
Christian  knowledge  and  excellence ;  and  ever,  like 
the  child  through  whom  it  was  to  be  developed, 
increases  in  favor  with  God  and  man. 

But  this  vital  magnifying  and  alteration  of  the 
incarnate  truth  gives  no  license  to  those  novel  in 
structors,  who,  not  recognizing  human  history,  nor 
holding  themselves  amenable  to  rational  law,  have, 
like  the  crude  converts  Paul  rebuked,  after  the 
idiosyncrasy  of  unripe  conceit,  every  one  a  psalm, 
a  doctrine,  a  tongue,  a  revelation,  an  interpretation ; 
who  would  make  a  religion  for  the  human  race  in 
a  day ;  who  would  substitute  unstable  counsel  and 
hasty  inspiration  for  the  doctrine  which  has  been 
food  and  breath  of  life  to  the  children  of  men  for 
ages;  and  who,  blown  about  by  every  wind  of 
doctrine,  would  have  others  lean  on  the  lightness 
of  a  feather  as  on  the  columns  of  rock,  which 
"  from  their  firm  base  "  can  never  fly.  We  attend 
not  to  the  man  who  would  waste  our  time  in 
inconsistent  discourse  from  impotent  notions  and 
reasonings  of  beauty,  but  to  the  artist  who  shows  us 


376  CONCLUSION. 

images  of  heroes  and  martyrs  and  saints.  So  it  is 
not  a  religious  speculation  that  deserves  our  regard, 
but  those  real  traits  manifesting  eternity  and  hea 
ven  as  by  a  divine  art,  which  grandly  uses  all  time, 
life,  and  the  world,  for  its  clay.  May  the  guardian 
angel,  our  good  genius,  owned  by  heathen  and 
Jewish  wisdom,  assigned  by  Christ  to  every  soul, 
the  messenger  of  God's  Spirit  suited  to  every  one, 
which  can  do  more  in  a  moment  than  we  wilfully 
in  years,  attend  on  all  our  efforts  by  this  model, 
for  our  own  improvement,  one  another's  welfare, 
and  the  saving  of  mankind ! 


THE    END. 


LIBflAJtf 


